


carnival of rust

by nishiki



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Altair is an A+ Idiot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kidnapping, M/M, Mafia AU, Malik sometimes is a douche, Nanny Connor, Sef is a clever guy, Stripper AU, kindergarten teacher connor, nasty break-up, post altair/maria relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 183,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaїr is a young father with a whole mountain of problems ahead of him. His little sons Darim and Sef are constantly keeping him on his toes after their young father only recently moved to the busy city of New York with them. Every day is a constant struggle for the young man and his only support in those dark times is his older cousin Desmond Miles who works as a barkeeper in the Big Apple. And it is same Cousin who finally sheds some light into Altair's stressful life at last with a new job opportunity - if it only would not be a job so frivolous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plan B

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am not a native speaker please forgive me my numerous mistakes and feel free to correct me down in the comments.

"Darim, come on, put your shoes on already, we don't have time for this." It was still early in the morning when the voice of a young man sounded from the kitchen – if anyone would call the room he was staying in a  _kitchen_ at all.

The first thing he noticed, as he moved into this new place nearly two weeks ago (without even inspecting the flat first) was the smell. The entire flat smelled muggy and no matter how often he opened the windows to let fresh air in, the smell did not vanish, nor did he find the source of it. It was a disaster.

Just like the rest of the flat the kitchen was a quite small room with nothing in it except the old, rusty fridge which looked like it was from the seventies (at best), an old gas stove (and potential fire source), a small sink and a rancid work surface between stove and sink. The small folding camping table and the single chair which he sat on right now were giving the impression of a crammed room in which hardly two adults could stay in at the same time. Table and chair Altaїr stole from the bulky waste in the neighborhood (secretive when the dark of the night had hidden his doing from the world), but he wasn’t especially proud about this. The kitchen floor was patterned with black and white tiles like a chessboard and Altaїr already spent hours scrubbing it and still couldn’t get rid of most of the stains on the white tiles every here and there. He did not even have a highchair for his little son, so he had no other choice than holding Sef, his infant, in his arms until the little guy would finish his breakfast.

Until now Altaїr had gone away with no stain on his clothes this morning and he wouldn’t have time to change them again anyway. Every morning in the small apartment was dictated by busyness and a healthy portion (even though others would say different) of hecticness, while the young father would try to sort his children and to groom himself properly. But Sef's little gurgle compensated for all the stress when Altaїr wiped his little mouth and laid his baby son over his shoulder. Wisely he had already thrown a simple dishcloth over his shoulder to protect his shirt from stains before he started the feeding of the lions. And now while he gently stroked Sef's small back he almost got lost in the feeling of his little fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

"Dad! Can I put the new shoes on?" Darim, his oldest, called from the hallway and Altaїr immediately braced himself for the discussion which would always follow.

"No, Darim, it's too cold for the sneakers. Just look outside, buddy, it's raining cats and dogs! Put on your rubber boots!" There really was no reason to raise one's voice in a flat as small as theirs, but he did it anyway – force of habit, probably.

"But daddy!" Of course. It would always start with _but daddy_ , there really was nothing new about this anymore and Altaїr almost feared the day his youngest would finally start speaking only to protest against his stupid daddy. "The rubber boots are ugly!" Well, there really was nothing he could say to defend them. They really were ugly. They were old and green like vomit. They smelled moldy and he got them from the flea market, but they fitted his son's feet and they kept them warm and dry on days like these when the rain was flooding the streets.

"You can't wear your new shoes in this weather, buddy." Altaїr moaned once more in the cause of this very week when Sef finally burped a little and spit milk over his daddies shoulder. Well, at least the dishtowel was there to protect his shirt.

"Oh, Daddy!" If he was to stand up from the rattly camping chair now – something he probably needed to do anyway if he wanted to begin the day – and would leave the kitchen to enter the hallway, he would probably catch Darim at the attempt to put on his new sneakers anyway against his father's command and for just one second Altaїr really wanted to leave it be but one more look to the window (which desperately needed cleaning) told him he needed to keep up with this serious and stern parenting today. So he rose from the chair, threw the dishtowel into the sink in which Darim's dishes already stood to be cleaned and left the kitchen through the very old-fashioned curtain which was made out of pearls and was fastened to the door frame. The door was probably removed by the previous owners of the flat and then … well … lost. At least the door was nowhere to be found and Altaїr hadn't had the time to remove the pearl curtain for now - other than this Sef seemed to like that hideous pink hippie thing.

The hallway greeted him with its ugly ass rusty carpet and the stains which were too trampled into the fabric to be removed other than by removing the whole carpet. In fact, Altaїr already tried to pull the carpet out at one point, but the sight of the even uglier linoleum beneath it made him rethink his plan once more. At least his baby could crawl softly through the flat like this, even though Altaїr did not really want to know what kind of bugs or insects were living inside the fibers. He never met the previous owners of his flat, but at least they seemed to have a liking to vibrant colors - they especially seemed to like to combine colors which would mismatch themselves in some way or another. While the kitchen walls were painted white (or rather yellow due to the smoke of many, many cigarettes) the floor stood out with green and rust.

The door to the only other room inside the apartment (except for the bathroom of course) was also missing, but with that, the previous owners hadn't bothered to put up a pearl curtain as well, so Altaїr could look directly from the kitchen door into their bed-living-nursery-room. The dark blue carpet in there was almost bearable except for the many cigarette holes in the fibers or the ash-stains all over the place, but the worst part was probably the kinda sweet smell of hashish and other opiates and smoke which burned itself into the pink walls and the out-fashioned furniture. Only for a moment, Altaїr punished the small gray couch (with which at least one or two cats amused themselves within the past) with a short but all the more disgusted glance before he looked to the mattress their old neighbor one floor down gifted to the small family a week ago.

They did not have much, this he could say without exaggerating the facts, but he at least tried to make the nest they were sleeping in as comfortable and snuggly as possible for him and his son. And really, as his eyes darted through the small hallway (while he ignored all the little holes in the walls where once had been nails - or something), he spotted his oldest son how he tried to not just put on his new sneakers but how he also tried to smuggle those inside the most hated rubber boots.

It wasn’t like Altaїr would not understand what his boy was thinking. Criminy! He of all people understood! Whenever he dared to look around inside their flat he only wanted to cause havoc and destroy absolutely everything, but they needed to pull through this together now. "Come on, little moth." Altaїr sighed then and stepped closer to the boy only to ruffle through his short hair with his free hand. Darim was crouching on the floor right next to the old coat rag and as always the wooden structure looked almost as if it was about to fall off the wall to struck his child - This was only yet another present which the previous owners left them inside the flat.

At least he finally started to understand why this very flat had been vacant for so long. If he would've had another choice - well perhaps he wouldn’t be in that exact hellhole then with his boys. On the other hand, they had a roof over their heads and they were together. What more did they need than that? Well … perhaps a full fridge.

Darim pouted with a face worth photographing when he looked up at his father. His light brown hair was exactly the same as Altaїr's and just like his father's, it was always messy. His blue eyes, on the other hand, were his mother's, just like this judging look in them, which buried Altaїr always under an entire mountain of guilt. Darim deserved something better, just like Sef. And perhaps their father was too much of an egoist to grant them a better life.

"Oh, don’t look at me like that, Darim. You can tell Uncle Desmond this afternoon about this incident when he'll pick you up, perhaps you'll get ice-cream then." This attempt of bribery worked. Of course, it worked because it worked absolutely every time. Sometimes it was a blessing that his son was so very predictable – at least for now. Sometimes the sole thought of Darim hitting puberty and becoming much more difficult to handle frightened him already. His son was a bullheaded little guy already and Altaїr still remembered very vividly how he himself had been as a teenager.

"Okay…" Darim murmured finally when he pulled off his news sneakers again and slid into his oh so much hated rubber boots, even though his face looked as if he fell into a whole barrel of sauerkraut. After this, it did not take all that long for Altaїr to help his boy putting on his rain jacket and strapping Sef to his chest. Once he had laughed over those idiots in the streets who would carry their babies in those ridiculous baby slings on their chests like a shield, but now he knew better and saw the advantages he had thanks to the baby-sling. Like this, he could carry Sef warm and protected and close to his body and had the hands free at the same time – other than this Sef really seemed to like it. At least the baby seemed to be pleased with the world around him, whenever Altaїr dared to glance down to his baby just to find him asleep or looking with big eyes up to him on the way to kindergarten.

Sef was only nine months old now and it wasn’t all that long since his eye color finally changed from blue to brown. They did not have the same amber-ish shimmer, this hint of honey, which the eyes of his father possessed, but it still was a quite light brown, his hair, on the other hand, was all the more dark and rested in little curls underneath his green head on his little head. Today little Sef did not seem to be very convinced with his daddy when they finally left the flat and Altaїr with Darim by his hand and Sef on his chest slowly made his way down the stairwell of the apartment building. The house itself was quite old and really needed some kind of renovation, but unlike his flat, it was kinda bearable still. It was one of those big-town-pearls of the last century which only rarely saw the face of some brave interior architect or even a construction worker. The lift was broken most of the time (this some of his neighbors told him already), so Altaїr was forced to use the stairs up to the fourth floor with two kids and groceries nearly every day. At least he did not have the money to buy much stuff at once and if he needed to carry the big stuff Desmond would always come to his rescue.

They just passed the first floor, when the door right by the staircase was flung open and interrupted Darim's blabbering about his new kindergarten friends which he already found during those past few weeks (and about his next archenemy which he as well managed to find already in such a short time). With the opening of the door, a horrible, rancid smell of smoke and cold spaghetti streamed out of the flat and began to fill the narrow hallway. Altaїr did not even need to look down to his son Darim to know that he was making a face because of the smell and he did not need to look to the now open door to know who was leaving the flat with stomping feet.

"La Ahad!" His new landlord bellowed and Altair turned slowly to face the approaching man. He was a brute, fat, middle-aged man with only a few hairs left on his skull but all the more on his back and chest to compensate the loss. Since they were living here he never caught Mr. Alfonso without a cigarette between his fat lips - not even to mention the clothes he was wearing. He probably not even changed his stained, white (more likely yellow) tank-top and his beloved sweatpants or his sandals with the ugly ass white tennis socks for jeans and shirt when he would go to pick up some groceries.

Altaїr stopped immediately, even though Darim was pulling his hand already and even though he himself only wanted to run down the stairs and never look back. Instead, he took a deep breath and braced himself for what was about to come, while Mr. Alfonso stepped closer and the smell of sweat and cigarettes and unwashed dirty socks and alcohol was slowly creeping and biting into his nostrils. "Good morning, Mr. Alfonso. Actually, it's Ibn-La'Ahad, not La Ahad." And he knew very well his landlord did not give two flying shits about his last name. His name was not even written correctly on his contract.

"Yes-yes. I don’t even try to pronounce this correctly, boy." The man snarled and dropped some of the ash down on the carpet. Well, that at least explained the holes and stains in the carpet and now those inside his own flat couldn’t surprise him much longer either. "You Turks and your strange names. As if anyone could ever say them right those tongue-twisters, but you people always get offended when we butcher the shit out of them."

"I'm from Syria." Altaїr corrected and knew the war was already lost.

"Oh fiddlesticks, it's all the same anyway, isn't it? Syria, Turkey, Iran - all the same rubbish."

When Altaїr came to the US as a child, the others warned him of the racism in this country and he himself learned quite fast how skeptical the people would look at him as soon as they learned where he was born. He couldn’t really blame them after the events of 9/11, even though he had been a child back then too and only just moved to the US after his beloved grandmother's death. What really came as a surprise to him was that it wasn't only the _white_ people who would beat down on him with their racism-bat. For the most part, it was people like Mr. Alfonso, former immigrants or the children of those. It was kinda ridiculous really. "Well anyway, what can I do for you, Sir? We're quite in a hurry, to be honest." - Because he already needed to pay the fee for being late in Darim's kindergarten two times by now. What a joke.

"Your rent, my friend, your rent. It was due yesterday!"

"But I moved in only two weeks ago!" Altaїr shot immediately and wished his boys weren't with him right now. He did not like to talk about such things when they were with him, especially not in front of Darim. The boy already knew what money was and for what it was needed, but he did not understand the connection really or even the worth.

"So? Yesterday was the first, wasn’t it? No matter if you're living here for two weeks or five! I expect the rent A.S.A.P, capisce?" Normally he would've laughed about Mr. Alfonso's choosing of words, but today he felt like he was greatly lacking humor.

"Of course, Sir." He sighed. "I give it to you as soon as possible." With that, he continued descending down the stairs, but of course not without the man calling after him for one last time " _Today, La Ahad!_ "

When they finally managed to reach the foyer of the apartment building they encountered the old Mrs. Fitzgerald, her wet, gray curls glued to her forehead due to the wetness outside and water was dripping down her transparent raincoat. For him, it came as an enigma what on earth an old lady like her was doing that early outside when the weather was like this. She greeted him with a soft smile and wasn’t able to help ruffle through Darim's short hair, which caused the boy to look up in shock to his daddy – but Altaїr only shrugged. Old ladies were like that. Darim should be glad she did not pinch his cheeks like his grandmother used to do with Altaїr. The front door creaked loudly when he opened it and as soon as they stepped outside he immediately opened his trusty, old and gray umbrella (which also had seen better days) in his one hand, his son's little hand in the other. They all weren't really fond of water or the excessive contact with the element. Must be something in his gene pool.

"Are you in trouble now, daddy?" Darim murmured while they walked down the street and was looking as if he now was glad to have his trusty rubber boots which protected him from the puddles on the ground while his dad's sneakers were already soaking wet.

"No, don’t worry, little moth." He replied with a small grin. This was, after all, what a father was supposed to say, right? No matter if there really was a reason to worry or not, the little one did not need to know and Altaїr could ponder in silence about how he would manage to dig the money for the rent up. Of course, the month only started yesterday, but he wouldn’t get paid until the fifteenth! Should he ask his bosses about a credit?

Well, perhaps this really wasn’t the best idea.

They were living in Brooklyn, not in one of those rich and famous and pretty neighborhoods of this district of New York, but at least Darim's kindergarten was just around the corner and so Altaїr only needed to walk a few blocks with his children through this shitty weather, past all those red brick-lined houses of the last century which all looked exactly like the one he was living in and past a few newer and fresher buildings which appeared suspiciously unsuspicious. The people living in this part of Brooklyn did not have much, but at least it appeared to be a rather safe neighborhood. When they finally rounded the corner to their right the kindergarten – a small but pretty and quite modern building with a large garden behind it for the kids to use as a playground, already came into seeing distance. Even this street was quite calm and silent and in a small attempt to pimp up the street someone decided to plant a row of small trees along either side of the street a few years ago. Sadly Altaїr wasn’t a very gifted botanic so he had no clue what trees were lining the street. Probably Birches. Something like that.

Even from afar he could already spot one of the many mothers walking towards the kindergarten door her little daughter by her hand and in his mind, Altaїr already braced himself against the pity attempts of flirting this poor woman would start as soon as she would spot him and to turn her down without hurting her as much. The lady – Miranda – was divorced only recently and since then … well, how would Desmond put it … desperate for the _D_? It appeared as if her husband had chosen to run away with his much younger and sexier secretary, but Altaїr had already gotten used to the fact that women like Miranda found him strangely attractive or appealing in some way he couldn’t even fathom. Women. No men could ever understand them. They see a man with a baby and lose their panties right on the spot.

Normally Altaїr wouldn't mind. He would just ignore her and shrug it off, but he hated it with passion when something like this would happen in front of his children. Darim did not understand such things yet and he was a little hothead anyway. Last time he pulled the hair of Miranda's daughter so Altaїr had been called during work and got scolded for not parenting his son right and making him a little criminal. Yes, this was the problem with women when they saw men with babies: they found it cute and somewhat sexy, but they never (not ever) believed that men were able to care for said babies or parent them the right way.

After a few feet the trio finally managed to cross the road with the aid of a crosswalk (where Altaїr told his son once more how important it was to always look left and right to see if a car was approaching, whereupon Darim only rolled his eyes and moaned "I know that already, daddy!") and then they stood in front of the kindergarten. The first time he had given Darim into the care of the kindergarten people he felt like the worst father walking this planet for giving his son into the care of complete strangers – especially after he noticed Darim sitting by the window and looking after him like a sad-sad Labrador-puppy.

By now Darim did not have any problems at all staying at the kindergarten and now it was his stupid daddy looking like a sad-sad Labrador-puppy whenever his little one left him to go and play with all his friends like his daddy wasn’t even existing. When he opened the door this morning the door nearly crushed his son's little head and the unexpected collision nearly swooped Altaїr off his feet, when the door was flung open and a shadowy figure barged out the building. But Altaїr regained his balance and only stumbled a few steps backward, while Sef began sobbing and Darim ranting. "Watch out!" The little one grumbled immediately and Altaїr wasn’t even embarrassed because of it. He was right. After the first shock, he finally managed to fixate the assassin in front of him as if he was about to note his license plate.

The man was tall in build, but a few inches shorter than Altaїr with strong and wide shoulders, jet-black hair and eyes as dark as coffee. Although his black goatee looked well-groomed Altaїr thought a man his age – he was at least in his late twenties – shouldn’t wear his beard like this anymore. Almost Altaїr thought him to be a mafia godfather of sorts because of the very black and pinstriped suit he was wearing – which looked suspiciously custom-made.

"You should teach your son some manners." The stranger growled with his deep voice and a little hint of an accent, which Altaїr could not define yet, but the look he was flashing at Altaїr talked for itself. Altaїr almost felt how he was scanning him, how his eyes darted from his wet and dirty sneakers up to his washed out and holey jeans and his ripped old grey hoodie up to his unshaved face, his pierced right eyebrow and finally to what could be seen of his hair, which was a little bit too long now and lastly to the blue tinted tips – for which his son envied him incredibly. _Scum_  was written distinctively into his eyes.

"And you should better watch out when storming outside a building like a movie diva! You could’ve hurt my son or the little guy!" Altaїr hissed back. Normally he was careful to hold his emotions back in front of his children, but Darim was right and he needed to learn that he did not need to let himself be bossed around by someone just because said someone was wearing Armani or Gucci or Prada or what-the-fuck-ever. They weren't lesser people only because they did not have as much as others.

Before there could be another word – and he already noticed the stranger wanted to say something – there was the small voice of a child from inside the building behind the man's back. "Daddy! Are you staying?" The voice of the little boy sounded longing and his cobalt blue eyes which finally blinked through the entrance door were sadder than Darim's ever looked like. If it wouldn’t be for the kindergarten teacher who held the little boy back he probably would’ve leached onto his father's leg.

"No, Tazim, I need to go to work now." The man replied finally, perhaps only a nuance colder than he would have under different circumstances before he finally walked passed Altaїr and escaped towards the black Mercedes parking at the crossroad by the end of the street. The man did not even bother with opening his umbrella which he was carrying under his arm. What an asshole. The little boy looked as if he wanted to start crying right on the spot, but the woman by his side calmly led him inside to soothe him and finally Darim hissed: "That’s him." and pointed to the boy.

"You mean-"

"My _archenemy_." Yeah. When was the right time to have an archenemy if not during kindergarten? For only a small moment he doubted his son's choice, but after he now met the father of said enemy, who was going to say what kind of devil was hiding inside this Tazim? "And his daddy is also stupid."

"Well, perhaps he just has a bad day." Altaїr mumbled before he shooed Darim into the building and closed his umbrella to follow his son into the foyer. Of course, he wanted to say something very different about this stranger from before, but this was not the right place for this.

It was pleasantly warm inside the facility and smelled somewhat homey. If only he could hide here from the bad world outside this door. Instead, he helped his son pulling off his jacket and the rubber boots and to put on his slippers. "So little man, you'll be good, yes? Make me proud." He then turned to Darim for his usual goodbye, but Darim only wanted to dash past his father and in the general direction of the toys. But yet he needed to endure his stupid father and this stupid goodbye.

"Yeeeeeees daddy." The four-year-old boy moaned once more this morning and only then Altaїr let go of him, but only because of Miranda walking into his line of vision once more. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed how the infamous woman opened the top button of her blouse, a very clear signal for the young father to flee and escape the kindergarten, after he saw how Darim was escorted by the new kindergarten teacher – a tall guy with dark, almost black hair and tanned skin. He did not have enough time to have a closer look at the man because the flight was now deemed more important.

Back on the sidewalk outside the building he opened his umbrella once more and hurried down the street, his little Sef still on his chest. By now he calmed down again but he still seemed not pleased with his father, especially now that he was scurrying through the streets so fast. His destination was clear and familiar. Altaїr wasn't living for a long time in New York. He only moved a month ago to the big apple, away from Boston – as far away as possible from the dark memories as possible – and he did not know anyone at all in this city. No one other than the man he visited every morning before he went to work.

Desmond was living in a close distance from his own home, but the houses in his neighborhood looked much wealthier und more modern as in Altaїr's neighborhood. They probably were. Desmond wasn’t rich, but he made it. His cousin was living a good life here in New York after all the shit that had gone wrong in his life until now. Halfway towards Desmond's flat he was forced to close his umbrella because of the heavy wind and so he couldn’t do much else than closing his hoodie a little around Sef so the little one wouldn't get wet and angry like a gremlin while he ran across the busy street and finally made it up the five steps to the front door of Desmond's house. Desmond was living in what was supposed to be known as the artist quarter of Brooklyn and the loft he was living in he had gotten rather cheap from an elderly artist he had met at his workplace. Yeah, sometimes Desmond was lucky like that. Sometimes Altaїr even caught himself being envious with his cousin for his flat and the weeks he had been allowed to stay here were the most comfortable since he left Boston.

If it wouldn’t be for Shaun, he would still be here with the boys.

It wasn’t long until the door opener buzzed after he ringed his cousin's apartment to let him inside so he could open the door and lock out the rain and the sad-sad gray world behind him. In Desmond's apartment building the elevator was miraculously working, so the journey to the highest floor was only a short. Upon arrival, the door of his cousin's flat was already open for him, so that he only needed to lean his soaking wet umbrella against the wall next to the door and finally step inside.

In Desmond's flat (his palace) it smelled deliciously of freshly brewed coffee and hot buns. Altaїr would've loved to sit down with Desmond to have breakfast, but he knew how to tame his very much angry stomach whenever it wanted to embarrass him and closed the door behind him without even showing a hunch of hunger on his face. A short gaze to his scratched wristwatch told him that he did not have much time anyway because the work was calling loudly for him and his new Boss, Mr. Ivanovicz, did not like it at all if he was late - not even a minute.

Right in that moment, his cousin appeared behind one of the many cement columns which divided the loft into distinct areas without having all too many walls - in this case, Desmond appeared out of the kitchen area. He was naked except for his shorts and his hair was still wet from a recently taken shower and smelled fresh of Desmond's favorite lemongrass shampoo. "Long night?" Altaїr greeted the barkeeper with a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, even though he was the one with the dark circles under the eyes.

"Look who's talking." Desmond replied when he stepped closer, but he did not really manage a grin although there was a small movement to his lips. Of course, Desmond first greeted the Baby and not so much his younger cousin. Desmond loved his kids and Altaїr really had no clue what he would be supposed to do without his help. "Did Sef cry again the whole night?"

"Nah." Altaїr yawned and freed the child from the baby-sling to give it to his cousin. At least he knew Sef would be in good care with him and Desmond was already making faces at the baby, resulting in Sef giggling and squealing (which was more than Altaїr managed to get from the boy this morning). Desmond was good with kids; at least that was a fact. "Darim was a little bumpy tonight and couldn’t find sleep really. And then there were the neighbors listening to loud music half of the night." Other than this Altaїr was kept awake with worries, but that was something he couldn’t really tell Desmond and on the other hand this was something Desmond probably knew anyway - at least Desmond's face told him that very clearly.

But Desmond held back a _'You really need to find another flat, Altaїr'_ and Altaїr held back a _'Can you borrow me some money?'_. Of course, Desmond could (and would) borrow him just enough money to please Mr. Alfonso, but he was twenty-two years old now and he was the father of two little boys, two adorable and precious children and it was about time to grow up and make it on his own. He could not always rely on Desmond for all his life.

Instead, saying anything Desmond just pushed back the gray hood on Altaїrs slightly wet head and grinned a little before he ruffled through the blue tips. "It suits you. I told you Rebecca has a good eye for stuff like that. If we just would shave the sides a little more you would look again like twenty-two and not as much as fifty-five, buddy."

"Say her thank you. It's not naturally to dye someone's hair without taking any money at all." He sighed then. Rebecca was a good buddy and Desmond really was lucky to have her and Altaїr were really lucky that Desmond had such good and helpful and generous friends. But Desmond only waved dismissively.

"Oh shrug it. She needs to practice anyway and you know how much she is yearning for trying out new things with our heads. I think she is happy to have you for that now after Shaun doesn’t let her near his head anymore and after my hair is so short now." Desmond grinned. The hair of his cousin really was shorter than Altaїr's and darker too, but except those details (the darker hair, the darker eyes of Desmond and the slightly broader back) most outsiders weren't able to tell them apart. They almost looked exactly the same and had almost the same bodily structure, only that Desmond was a lot fitter than him and possessed more muscles too. He was working out a lot and there had been a time when Altaїr was pretty much the same, but now this seemed to be from another life.

"Where's the slowpoke? Is he already on the campus?" Altaїr grinned even though with a small grimace and even though he wasn’t really feeling like it. He and Shaun never got along too well and back then, when Desmond introduced Shaun to him, a much younger Altaїr had protested loudly against this guy. Well, this probably was still stuck in Shaun's head until now - but on the other hand, the dislike Altaїr felt towards the man was returned the same way. He was the loser of the family and with that Altaїr learned to live.

"Yeah, he needed to correct some tests or something." Desmond chuckled. "You know how he is. Said he couldn’t concentrate enough with me around." Of course, he knew how Shaun was. Shaun was a horrible Babbitt and always needed to have things as correctly as humanly possible. Being a history professor was only the fitting job for a guy like him and it was all the weirder that such a man was in a relationship with a man like Desmond for so long now.

"Anyway, do you have everything you need for the little guy?" Altaїr then mumbled when he gently stroked his thumb over Sef's red cheeks. He did not like leaving his children behind every day. He did not like not being able to care for them the entire day. He did not like to rely on other people. He did not like that his children spent much more time with completely strangers or Desmond than with their father. But his bosses did not really understand his situation and they would not like to see a baby at his workplace.

"Don’t worry. I only bought new diapers yesterday. We will have a nice and relaxed day together you'll see." Yeah, they would. Altaїr knew that he could trust Desmond and that his boys would have it good with him - even with Shaun. To be honest, they would have it better with really anyone but their dad who was pretty much a good-for-nothing. "Hey … have you thought about it by chance?"

"About what?" Oh, he knew exactly _about what_ he should've thought and Desmond knew as well that he was playing dumb for a reason, but he did not seem to take it all too personal.

"About the job. I know, the schedule is a little tough but we would find a solution for that. You would bring home good money and you wouldn’t need to do three jobs per day which all won't earn you enough money for you three." The pamphlet was still lying in Altaїrs new flat, hidden underneath one of his jackets so Darim wouldn’t find it on accident and he couldn’t deny that it was itching under his fingernails to just take this opportunity.

"Then I would see the little ones even less than now." He mumbled. "How shall I be their father when I'm away the whole night and am not even with them to calm them when they're having bad dreams?"

"You wouldn’t need to work the night shift constantly." Desmond insisted and grabbed his left shoulder to wrap his fingers around it shortly. "Just think about it. And now go on, you need to go to work now."

Yes, that he needed indeed. At the door, he looked back over his shoulder once more to his son and Desmond, who waved with Sef's plump little hand at him, how he would do it every morning. "Bye bye daddy." Desmond grinned and Sef's big brown eyes first shot to Desmond who looked so much alike to his father and then to the original who was waving goodbye before he closed the door behind him. This moment was the worst every fucking day. No. It was even worse when he would pick his boys up tonight and would hear Darim laugh and see how comfortable the kids were with Desmond and Shaun. Those were the very few moments when Altaїr was really thinking about turning his back to his kids and to just leave the city. Perhaps they would be better off with Shaun and Desmond. They earned good money; they were grown up and reasonable. They were good parents no matter what Shaun was thinking about all this, he, on the other hand, was all alone and only a kid himself.

When he arrived at the laundry of Mr. Ivanovic his umbrella was finally broken and whilst he then was stuck to his elbows in a pile of some stranger's dirty laundry he had just enough time to think about Desmond's offer once more. His cousin would never drag him into something which would endanger his kids or him in any way. And still … could he really expect his kids dealing with that? If it would mean he could buy Darim his own bed, it would be worth the effort and the embarrassment.

Later then, around lunchtime he left the laundry only to begin his work in the kitchen of _Fredbear's Diner_ and while the grease of the fries gave him a whole new delicious smell (something like _Eau de chippy_ ) he thought back to the time when it still was romantic to have nothing more than a mattress on the floor to sleep on in their little, cold and windy flat. Maria and he only had themselves and the clothes they were wearing after her parents had shooed her away. Back then absolutely everything had been perfect - only them, him and her, against the rest of the world. Those times were over and done now. Now it wasn’t romantic at all anymore, now it was pathetic and his sons deserved better.

It was already five past four in the afternoon when he wrung his cloth the next time to go on with his work. Desmond was picking up Darim now - Desmond always was on time when it came to the children - and he still hadn't managed to come to a conclusion about the offer of his cousin. There was so much he needed to really think about, so much that could go wrong, and so much that could fall back on him or the kids someday. Was he really ready to risk all this only to not needing to work his ass off the whole day without eating or sleeping right?

"Lahaad stop dilly-dallying already. We need to finish this floor in five!" His colleague was a quite pleasant woman, but she couldn’t bear someone who was either slow or working messily, so Altaїr only raised one hand to gesticulate to her he understood and continued cleaning the next desk on which tomorrow morning again some fat pencil pusher would sit on his lazy ass while he was working in the laundry. Such a nine-to-five job was probably really nice even though Altaїr knew pretty well that not all of those people sitting in this very office made the big money. In the end, they all were just lemmings which ran into their doom.

They worked until their backs would be ruined and their joints have broken just to put something to eat on the table and in Altaїr's case, the money mostly was just enough to feed his kids. He still hadn't got the money for Mr. Alfonso but perhaps he was lucky and would manage to get away once more if he would just manage to sneak past the first floor. At least this was what he hoped for when he picked up the children at Desmond's place this evening.

When they arrived at their place there was a stroller blocking the elevator doors, but it was defect anyway and while Darim held his hand on the way up to the fourth floor he was blabbering on and on and on about all what had happened during the day. The name _Tazim_ fell a lot. Yes, Darim really hated that little guy, no matter how often his father tried to warn him to not pick fights with the kid and to try and rather befriend him. He could talk to Darim as much as he wanted, it wouldn’t do anything. It was pretty much like talking to a dead horse.

They passed the first floor without encountering Mr. Alfonso a second time today and the noises coming from his flat told him why. Through the thin walls of the apartment sounded the noise of a television and some football game (or something like that) just as well as the constant yelling and nagging of Mrs. Alfonso about her husband's consumption of beer so early in the evening. "Someday this will be your death Alfredo and I won't tidy up your stupid corpse!" Yeah well, that’s exactly how he imagined the face of marriage in his youthful and naïve mind, right?

Coming to the third floor they met Mrs. Fitzgerald once again - and again, she was dressed in her transparent raincoat over her out fashioned clothes and armed with her trusty umbrella. Altaїr wondered once again where the old lady was headed to now, but he did not ask either. The autumn brought the night earlier than usual into their homes and Altaїr was a little bit glad about this, because Darim too was tired much earlier than usual.

And because of that the discussion was only a short one as soon as they entered the flat and Altaїr simply threw a pizza into their oven - only to feel once more like the worst father walking this earth. "Today we had spaghetti in kindergarten." Darim moaned. "Even with vegetables, daddy! Why won't you make something like that?"

Yes, why? "Well today we'll have pizza, you like pizza, right? And pizza too is originally from Italy." Altaїr replied simply when he left the kitchen. Sef was already asleep on his arm and Desmond already fed the little guy so Altaїr only needed to change his clothes and lay him on his bed - the only piece of furniture he really had for the infant. The only window they had in the living room was leaky and so the living room turned quite fast into a freezer in those cold nights - that was why he wrapped his baby into a warm blanket to make sure he wouldn’t get cold.

"The pizza isn't from Italy. You took it out of the freezer, I saw it." Darim continued his complaints when he threw his little backpack into one corner of the narrow hallway and pulled off his rubber boots as well.

"Well observed and now put away your backpack." Altaїr sighed. He did not need to see what his little one was doing in the hallway behind his back to know. After all, he knew Darim for four years now and the little guy was pretty much just like his stupid daddy when he had been his age.

"But why? This place looks like it's about to fall apart anyway." Darim growled and stomped into the living room to confront his daddy just when said daddy pulled off his kinda wet hoodie and hung it to the window. The thing needed to be washed desperately, but … well, one more day wouldn’t hurt, right? They did not have a washing machine. Mrs. Fitzgerald offered him to use hers until they would get their own, but still, he would rather go to the self-service laundry at the end of the street. His jeans followed the same example as the hoodie. They were wet from the rain and mud on the streets and smelled like rancid grease and cleaner. A very sexy combination indeed.

"I know Darim, but it won't get better if you scatter your stuff everywhere. We will make ourselves comfortable in here, you'll see." Again he sighed but he couldn’t help it. Of course, his son wasn’t pleased with that answer - that he could see when looking at his crossed arms as he turned around to face the little guy.

"You say that since we live here, daddy."

"Well, it's only been two weeks. Listen, tomorrow I don’t need to work, right? And then I will take care of all this." He smiled and stepped closer only to lift the boy onto his arms. Darim was a very jealous little man, he knew that pretty well and he also knew that the big brother silently was glad whenever his baby brother was asleep so he would get his father's full attention. Altaїr knew how to use that against the boy.

"When mommy was still around it never looked like that."

This was something he couldn’t deny. When Maria was still with them, the flat in Boston had been a home. No big home. No luxurious home. But a home, a warm, tidy and comfortable nest in which his son had been able to laugh and crawl around as he pleased on a clean carpet. He knew Darim did not mean to hurt him. He did not think about stuff like that and still, it hurt, yet Altaїr pressed a small kiss to his son's temple. "You smell daddy." Darim commented brisk and Altaїr laughed a little. "Yes, that’s why we'll take a bath after dinner."

\-------------------------------------

The music inside the _Plan B_ was loud and heavy but that was the point of it and the dim light provided the right atmosphere to really enjoy the evening. In this light, absolutely everybody was looking good no matter what visage would be revealed in bright daylight. It was quite early that night, but Desmond already had the hands full and not every customer was easy to keep at bay. He was used to the pity attempts of flirting from his customers, that really was something this job brought with it. As a barkeeper, he was part of the inventory just like the waiters and the DJs and with that, they provided a certain thrill for the outsiders. Customers loved to brag about having banged one of the employees of establishments like this. They bit on granite with Desmond, but he still let them believe they could have him - that way he got more money out of them even though Shaun absolutely hated it that he was flirting with those people.

"Having a bad day, boss?" The Bartender yelled over the loud music when he was about to place a just cleaned glass on the shelve behind him. A certain sense of order and structure behind the counter was the most important thing in his job - that he learned early. One false move behind the counter - his stage - when there was chaos around him and glasses or bottles would break. Sure, those weren't really catastrophic damages, but the boss would get mad if he would waste some of the good stuff and other than this it ruined the illusion. A bartender not just provided drinks, they were magicians, artists. They provided the magic during nights like this and got the customers into the right mood - of course, the alcohol was very helpful for that.

His boss, a tall guy - even though he wasn’t as tall as Desmond - with black hair and eyes as black as coal sat down at the counter on one of the stools. It wasn’t really unusual that he would do something like that only that it was. Of course, most bosses of establishments like this would sit down at the bar every now and then to have a look at the events - back then when he worked in the _Bad Weather_ his boss was his own best customer - but his boss now wasn’t really the type for it. Most of the time he hid inside his office over some important looking documents and made faces at the paper whenever something was not like he wanted it to be. He wasn't an unfriendly person really, but he seemed to be in a bad mood nearly every day. Especially lately.

"Just make me your famous _Shirley Templar_ , Miles." The man simply growled, but Desmond did not take it personally. Instead, he concentrated on his job and grinned a little when he noticed the awe on the faces of the customers while he whirled the shaker around and toyed with the glass. By now he mastered the tricks even in his sleep.

"The new guy is really good at this." Desmond nodded towards the entrance. There he was: a giant. Quite literally so. Connor was big as a bear. He certainly was no one to mess with and this seemed exactly the right thing for a security man. If only he wouldn’t be so silent.

"He frightens the customers." His boss replied and rolled his eyes. "I knew it was the wrong decision to employ him."

"Well isn't it the right thing for a security guy to be a little bit frightening? No one will mess with him like they mess with the others and if they try he won't have a hard time dealing with it." Desmond laughed, even though Connor wasn’t exactly what someone would imagine when thinking of a bouncer. He was a quite polite and friendly guy, but he could use his hands if it was necessary. His boss only waved at him and Desmond pushed the drink towards him. "Something different boss-"

"Is it your cousin again? I told you he can apply for a job here. As long as I haven't seen him I don’t know if I have use for him."

Yes, that the young bartender knew quite well. As long as Altaїr couldn’t get himself out of the cage he built for himself he had no chance of ever starting a new life or a better future for him and his children. For a moment Desmond caught himself thinking about the kids again. Darim did not seem odd in any way. He was big mouthed and cheerful as always and yet Desmond knew it wouldn’t always be like this. One last look to the watch on his wrist told him that it was already past midnight. Altaїr probably sat in front of the old laptop Desmond gave him and was searching the internet for another job again. Or was he already asleep on the old, thin mattress on the ground?

He couldn’t help the guy as long as Altaїr wouldn’t let him it seemed. He never liked Maria.


	2. Lucky Charms

Maria's lips were moving, but he could not hear what she was saying. Her voice and her words were only a dull hum inside his skull and his brain only a mushy substance somewhere in the space between his ears. He could see her very clearly in front of him; her dark curls which elegantly framed her oval formed face and her ivory skin; He saw how those high cheekbones of hers gave something sublime and majestic to her face and he saw her big ocean blue eyes, her delicately formed lips - which suddenly stopped moving. It seemed as if she wanted to let her words sink into the brain of the teenager who sat across from her on the other side of the small round table - only that said teenager did not have the slightest clue what she said to him at all.

"Altaїr?" The humming inside his head sounded a lot like a swarm of killer bees, like a swarm of very angry killer bees humming his name. Maria's face slowly turned into an impatient grimace, when the bees started repeating his name once again - this time more insistent than before and Maria's lips moved once more in tune with the humming of the bees only to reveal Maria's pearl-white and almost absurdly perfect teeth.

"Altaїr! Did you get what I just said?" The killer bees prepared for the attack on the stupid idiot who came too close to their beehive and his legs only wanted to start running to get as far away as possible. His left leg was bumping up and down so heavily that his knee was hitting the underside of the tabletop repeatedly and nearly tossed over his glass. He grabbed it without even noticing and wanted only to spill the water in his face. Maria's eyes finally turned a little bit pitiful, when she rested her elegant chin on the palm of her left hand and leaned forward a bit. The silk covering her bosom was stretching more than usual. Every other boy would've noticed that particular detail sooner… "You're already far, far away again, aren't you?" The swarm of killer bees inside his head calmed down a little and now sounded a lot more like a gentle sigh before Maria let her long, slim fingers with her red colored nails click in front of his face. A blink and the world had him back - but therefore his mouth felt like he had tried to eat the Sahara or the desert between Masyaf and Jerusalem.

"W-What? No … It's alright … I've heard what you said. I-" - He wished he wouldn’t stammer as much, that was what he really liked to say.

"I'm pregnant." The girl in front of him said and with that probably repeated what she'd said before and what had been swallowed by the loud humming of the bees inside his head. Altaїr almost instantly wished the bees would hum again to swallow her words. They did not. The bees suddenly became distinctively quiet.

"P-Pregnant." He repeated and his voice sounded awfully thin and shaky and small, but with his left hand he brushed through his short hair and his right hand grabbed the glass tighter, so it nearly crushed under his grip. "Y-Yes. Alright … that’s a good thing …isn't it? Or is it? Is it good? I mean … I wanted to say … I …"

Maria was making a face. They were dating for only two months now, but he already knew by heart what her grimaces meant and now (to his relief) it did not say he should run and hide, but that this very girl he fell in love with pitied him … a lot. Then she crossed her arms in front of her (slightly bigger) bosom and smiled. It looked nervous and not as it would look normally. "Well…" She then began and leaned back in her chair. They met in their favorite café – more like in Maria's favorite café, because Altaїr thought the place was way too elegant and way too expensive and he felt like an alien in here - after Maria had called him (when a girl calls you after two months in a _relationship_ because she wants to _talk,_ you simply know something is wrong and thus Altaїr did not come unprepared - well kinda) and like always when they would meet here the waiter was making huge eyes at his girlfriend and looked at Altaїr as if he wanted to poison him. Sometimes he really felt like he was trapped inside the movie _the_ _Lady and the tramp_. Maria was this young and beautiful lady, elegant and sophisticated and he was only the village idiot without parents or really any family to look after him or even guide him through life. No wonder her parents did not like him at all. They probably had someone different than him in mind for their daughter - someone like this de Sable asshole.

Well perhaps she wouldn’t be in that kind of situation with this guy now (No she certainly wouldn’t be in that kind of situation right now if she would date this guy). "I always wanted to have children at one point in my life. I mean … aren't children a godsend?" Yeah well … this _god-thing_ really was only another reason why her parents detested him so much. He neither believed in the Christian god nor in Allah or really anything of that sort.

"A-And … well … Do you want to … I mean … Are you planning on keeping it?" He knew the question was a mistake right when it left his mouth. Maria looked as if he had spit in her face. Of course he knew her opinion about that; after all they had ethics-class together. That was how they _met_ , right in the first week he spent in his new school when they fought about the pros and cons if some kind of a god existed or not. "Sorry…"

"You are not happy." Maria noticed with a face as if she had bit into a very sour citron, but now it was Altaїr who leant back so heavily that the backrest of his chair was screeching loudly.

"What did you expect? Did you think I would do a caper, Maria?" He moaned. "We are seventeen! We are still visiting school! I thought you'd take the pill! How are you planning on doing all this? Are you planning on dancing with me at the prom when you're highly pregnant? Your parents will lock you away or put you into a boarding school with nuns or something like that!"

He really meant it. He was serious, but Maria laughed and he had no clue if she was laughing at him or the situation. Probably both. "Well not if we would simply run away together." She grinned, a mischievous little shimmer in her eyes. That was only another reason why he loved this girl so much. She was always good for a surprise.

"Running away? Are you mental? With what money?"

"I managed to save a lot of money during the past years while my parents forced me to work part time and you already work after school too, aren't you? You'll see, it will be great! We will have our own little apartment where nobody can tell us what to do and what not to do! Only the two of us and the baby! We will be our own little family. You always wanted to have a family!"

She hit a sore spot and she knew this perfectly well. She talked to a boy who lost his parents and was passed around since and she knew that. She knew where to poke him and where to grab him to get what she wanted. Altaїr knew that too perfectly well. He wasn't dumb. But Maria was his first girlfriend and he was only seventeen, young and stupid and naïve and … lonely.

"Other than this, if it doesn’t work out _I_ am the one who will be left alone with a baby if you decide to run off at some point." She was still grinning, but he knew (at least he wanted to think that) she was only trying to mask her own worries and insecurities with that, so he grabbed one of her hands with his own shaking right hand to loosen the knot her arms created and wrap his hand around her fingers.

"I promise I would never do something like that."

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The stench of cleanser was burning in Altaїr's nostrils, but it wasn’t as bad as when he was working at the laundry or as bad as the professional chemicals he was using during his job as a cleaner. His knees hurt after he was crawling around on the hard tiles of the bathroom floor for over half an hour now. The tiles were more grey than white and were cracked every here and there, but at least they were clean – for now (that was until Darim would forget to take off his dirty shoes before he would storm into the bathroom because he needed to pee desperately only because he did not do it in kindergarten before they left).

Finally Altaїr leant back on his heels and dropped his head back into his neck to take a deep breath when the stench of the chemicals was making him too dizzy to keep his focus on things. It was freezing cold inside his flat after he ripped open all the doors and windows to finally get rid of that awful smell he still couldn’t locate no matter how much he was cleaning or searching. His goal for today was to polish the flat a little until Darim would come home from kindergarten this afternoon; after all he promised his son he would make their flat a little more welcoming and homey. They simply couldn’t get on with this like they did until today – two weeks were more than enough time to live like that. At least the bathroom now was a little bit more acceptable, even though his grandmother – may _Allah_ rest her soul – would say different. There were a few chalk stains Altaїr couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he was scrubbing and his skin was already dry and affected by the chemicals because he did not have gloves like he was wearing during work.

The bathroom was rather small, but it was just big enough to house two adults in case of emergency, even though they wouldn’t be able to move a lot in here. Therefore the bathroom did have a bathtub with built in shower – by guess from the fifties, judging by the optic – a sink which was way too high installed for Darim to reach it by himself and an old toilet – about which Altaїr tried not to ponder too much.

"Enough!" Altaїr decided with a sigh leaving his lips when he threw the rag into the bucket. The water in the bucket was now black – and even that was an understatement, because there really wasn’t a fitting name for the color of the water inside the bucket and thanks to all the acrid fumes Altaїr couldn’t think of one either. He did have a more pressing thing to do anyway – such as his baby son who he heard crying silently from the living room. It was not yet noon, but Altaїr thought he deserved a pat on the back for the things he had managed to achieve during the last hours already, when he strolled through his flat. He had done much more than had originally expected.

The kitchen … Well, it did not blink and shine like the kitchen in the stupid advertisement on TV would do, but it was clean at last. Even the living room now was way tidier than before after he pushed the few boxes he still had to the sides. Still he lacked storage space such as shelves or closets to store away all the things they managed to move from Boston to New York, but he guessed he would find a solution for that too – hopefully. On his way into the living room he avoided looking on the ugly ass walls or the holes in said walls as usual and instead stepped right to Sef's little bed. The little man looked much more accusingly up at him than usual, perhaps because his daddy still stunk after the cleanser or because it was so cold outside his little, warm nest. Altaїr really felt a little sorry that he needed to get Sef out of his little bed, but at least he went to close the windows before he did it.

Sef's big brown eyes still rested on his father's face when Altaїr scooped him into his arms. "What's going on, buddy? Diapers full?" He did not smell like it. No, if _his child_ would have its diapers full one were able to smell it even three stories down. Perhaps he was hungry, even though he fed him only an hour ago. Well he supposed this did not really said much, because if Sef was the same as his big brother he would always be hungry. No wonder Altaїr found the time to eat himself so rarely: Darim ate him out of house and home already. To be quite honest he sometimes was glad when the kids would eat at Desmond's place and on the same instant he was nearly crushed to death by his guilt.

"Come on, let's have a look if we find something to eat for you." Normally Sef calmed down as soon as his daddy would pick him up, the closeness to his father and his warmth always seemed to soothe him, but today he only kept whining and Altaїr felt more helpless than usual. Helplessness itself was a feeling he was used to by now since Sef's birth, since Maria wasn’t with him anymore.

Of course, he had experienced how Darim had been as a Baby and he knew how to handle an infant, but when Darim was Sef's age Maria had taken care of things mostly because Altaїr had been at work most of the time and only came home late, but early enough to tug his boy in and wish him a goodnight. They imagined their life as a family oh so romantic and during the first few months it really was. While he now walked with Sef trough his little flat and gently cradled him in his arm, hoping he would stop crying, he thought about the one-room-apartment back in Boston – near enough so that Maria could still walk by foot to school, but far enough away so her parents wouldn’t bother showing up too much (not that they really would have cared anyway, after they kicked their daughter out of their home).

It really had been a pleasant time back then and every time he would come home tired as fuck from work Maria had rearranged something inside their home once more or she had painted their walls or she had fallen asleep while studying. Altaїr himself had dropped out of school after they finally understood that two people couldn’t live only out of love and air and that even a little flat like theirs wanted to be paid. This revelation had hit the seventeen year old idiot he had been back then like a jack-hammer. Together they had spent good times in this ridiculously tiny apartment. They had taken photos of Maria's constantly growing womb and painted the skin and made a cast from it and he himself had talked to his unborn child like every young father to be would do, excited about the prospect of a new little life growing day by day. Of course his joy had been incredible when Maria had told him it would be a boy.

Yes, he thought, they really had been happy. He had been terribly afraid about the future and how in the heavens _he_ should look after a family of his own or how he should care for them, but they both had been dreamers and they painted their future in all the colors of the rainbow with their rosy-colored-glasses and – yes, perhaps he _wanted_ to believe all would come to a good end. To hold his son for the very first time in his arms and being able to kiss his forehead really did compensate for all the hardships he endured day in day out, for all the taunting off his former classmates when seeing him working at the diner and giving out ridiculous orders only to get him into trouble. They were a little family and suddenly he hadn't felt as alone anymore.

The fridge was empty. Well empty was an understatement. Normal people would at least have a dry citron or a moldy apple inside their fridge at least when they stated it was empty, but this very fridge – yes – this fridge really was absolutely and unmistakably empty. Even the cupboards couldn't produce something to eat for the little guy; no baby formula, no nothing. Of course not, after all he delayed the grocery shopping for a week now. Sef's crying only grew louder and all the cradling did not help. His little forehead really felt a little hot when Altaїr kissed him to soothe him a bit. "Looks like we need to go shopping, buddy. Do you think you can last this long?"

Of course he did not get an answer out of the nine-month-old infant, but it felt right to talk to the little guy – after all he was learning though that and other people talked to their cats and dogs … Shaun even talked with his fichus (a dark secret Altaїr uncovered when he and the boys stayed at Desmond's). As fast as he could he jumped into his jacket and shoes, strapped his child with the much loved baby-sling to his chest and left the house. He even managed to avoid being caught by Mr. Alfonso – mainly because he tip toed down the stairs and avoided the creaking steps by now – before he escaped out the front door and onto the street. To say the sun would be shining down on him would be a blatant lie, but at least it did not rain at the moment, even though he already met the old Mrs. Fitzgerald dressed in her raincoat once again this morning when he brought Darim to kindergarten.

It was cold outside and the sky looked a lot like it did often in October: heavy as iron and Altaїr cursed himself that he did not have a second umbrella at home just in case. Well that was another thing that changed since he was all alone with his boys: He always was unprepared. His fridge was empty and he forgot to stock it, the weather was bad and he did not have an umbrella. This wouldn’t be so bad if he would be alone. If he would be alone and perhaps a student at the NYU than his current lifestyle would have a little bit of its very own charm to it, because then he would only be one of the many other idiots. He was only twenty-two years of age and he did have more than enough time to finally grow up and become an adult – only that he did not. He was still a child and now he had two children himself and no one except Desmond to help him.

When he shoved his right hand into the pocket of his for this season way too thin jacket, he felt paper crackling under his fingertips and pulled out the corpus delicti only to look at it briefly. The colorful flyer Desmond gave to him over a year ago laughed at him. Surely he would find a solution for the care of his children. He and Desmond could take turns with their shifts and between that Shaun could take care of the kids. It wasn’t like his children wouldn't be robust enough to survive five minutes alone with Shaun. It could work out for them and Desmond said the customers were paying good money. Perhaps it would even be fun. And still … What chances did he really have to get the job? Well, on the other hand Desmond too came empty-handed to New York – with nothing except for his boyfriend. But Desmond wasn’t him. People _liked_ Desmond. He was charming - at least when he needed to be – even if he was a little bit silent at times, but he was a good buddy and that radiated from every pore of his body, perhaps this was why people trusted him so fast.

The supermarket wasn’t far from his home and he even managed to calm down Sef a little bit (or rather the baby decided to show at least a little bit mercy with his poor father and stopped crying). He did not cry anymore but still he did make a few sounds every now and then which reminded Altaїr on a sad and half-starved puppy-dog. It only worsened his bad conscience. How does one manage to not have baby food in their home when having an infant it their care?! Sometimes he really did question his sanity. When he entered the supermarket he already noticed the first pitiful looks he got from the various old ladies all around the aisles. The assortment of this little shop wasn’t as extensive as one of the larger chain-supermarkets, but it was enough really and sometimes the lady on the checkout gave him a little discount whenever Darim would use his puppy-eyes on her. Today too (today especially) he felt like the biggest loser walking this planet while he wandered through the aisles with his little basket and headed straight for the aisle with the baby food. He was fast in grabbing the right stuff and throwing it into his basket and after he even grabbed a new pack of diapers his wallet told him he would even have enough money left to buy something for Darim. The fridge still wasn’t stocked and in the moment when he reached the aisle with the cereals he already knew he should rather buy some fruits or vegetables from the leftover money, but Darim loved those sweet flakes and thus his right hand grabbed blindly for the last package of _Lucky Charms_.

He was met with resistance. Or to be correct he was met with some stranger's fingers. A part of him wanted to recoil immediately and utter his apologies, but instead his fingers closed themselves only tighter around the package and pulled even before he managed to look at his opponent.

"Excuse me, but I believe those are mine." The dark growl of the man's voice was unmistakably, just as well as the pin-striped suit he was wearing once again and the jet-black hair or the dark-dark eyes of the man who furrowed his brows while he was sporting the darkest frown Altaїr ever saw and held his own basket casually in his right hand just like Altaїr did.

"Did you write your name on it?" Altaїr snarled immediately and he felt a mischievous little joy watching how the man was making a face at this when he seemed to understand that Altaїr wouldn’t simply give up the _Lucky Charms_ without a fight. Perhaps the guy did not even recognize him and Altaїr was fine with that. He only was a flea in the fur of a dog for people like this guy, only a blot in an ocean of blots.

"Pardon?"

"Well, I'm just wondering if your name was written on the package, because why else would anyone think about the possibility that it would belong to you? As long as you haven’t paid for anything you own nothing." Altaїr replied dryly and pulled even harder on the package which was already crackling angrily under their opponent forces. For only a moment Altaїr nearly forgot his son and the urgent case of starving baby.

"I grabbed it first!" The man shot angrily.

"In _your world_ at best!" Altaїr answered and he was already quite sure that a few of the old ladies wandering around the store were listening closely to their encounter over some stupid cornflakes. He noticed how the guy opened his mouth once more to fire back at him – even though he looked like he could easily buy the whole _Lucky Charms_ fucking factory – when Altaїr's phone started ringing inside his pocket. He did not have another choice than to shut up the angry phone, but for this he needed to let go of Darim's cornflakes. He dreaded the moment when he noticed the triumphant grin on the stranger's face while he himself only clenched his teeth so hard his jaw started to hurt.

"Don’t you want to answer that call? Could be urgent." Oh that god damned bastard! Sef sniffed a little and finally Altaїr gave up, shoving his hand into the left front pocket of his jeans and answering the call without even sparing a glance to the display. The angry voice of Mr. Ivanovic made him regret that choice immediately.

 _"Lahahd I need you here A.S.A.P."_ No good morning, no _sorry for disturbing you on your day off_ , nothing. Of course not, because for Mr. Ivanovic his employees were nothing but slaves. Altaїr could only stand there and watch how the stranger got away with his baby son's fucking _Lucky Charms_. Not even that he could do for his son.

"But-" He started, but was cut off immediately.

 _"No but, Lachaad. Kevin is sick – he got something of the cleanser in his eyes and needed to go to the hospital. Get your ass over here boy, otherwise you can forget that job."_ Mr. Ivanovic was a relatively calm and nice boss. He was no one to jest with or to befriend during the work, but normally he was a rather fair boss – but he was no one to fuck with and he did not like dealing with _Bullshit_ , how he called it (And with Bullshit he normally meant absolutely everything that had something to do with the private lives of his employees).

Once more during that very morning he could only clench his teeth. He needed this job. Even with working three jobs a day he nearly did not earn enough money for the three of them. "I'm on my way, Sir. I'll be there as fast as I can." He replied and ended the call before his boss could say something else, though he wouldn’t – that much Altaїr already knew about him. He only wanted to know that Altaїr was on the way - that was what he deemed important. Of course Altaїr could simply not go to work or take his sweet time, but Mr. Ivanovic knew that Altaїr needed that job desperately and that was why he would always call him and not the other employees. He could pressure the young father and he did this with passion.

When Altaїr reached the checkout the stranger was already gone for good and even when he left the shop he was nowhere to be seen. While on his way back home he already called Desmond only to beg the man to come to his place and play the babysitter, even though Altaїr rather wanted to bring Sef to Desmond. He simply did not have enough time to do it, plus the baby needed to eat first. So Altaїr hurried back home and fed his son, while he waited for Desmond. Sef's forehead really felt a little warmer when he fed him, sitting on the mattress in the living-room. Hopefully the little guy wouldn’t get sick. Normally Altaїr tried and enjoy those moments and tried to concentrate only on the child in his arms and tried to remember how it felt holding Sef for the very first time - and not so much Maria's face when she approached him eighteen months ago only to tell him that she was pregnant once again.

Of course neither Darim nor Sef were planned, they did not _wish_ to be parents so young, but that did not change anything about the love he felt for his kids and that he would never give them up - not a thing in the world could persuade him to do that. When he learned that he would become a father again he fled home and strolled through the streets of Boston for hours. They've taken care of things, at least Maria had promised him she would take the birth control pill regularly and of course he himself was not free of any guilt in this case and yet he had been thrown into this situation once more and hadn't have a plan what to do. After Darim's birth they quickly learned how much less romantic the reality with a baby really was. Maria started University, but with a baby and without support it had been nearly impossible. Altaїr never asked her, but he was sure Maria regretted having Darim. He was sure Maria loved Darim in her own way and to her own conditions, but not even a year after his birth she had been on the edge. Darim was no easy child. He often cried through the nights and screamed or he was sick and often Altaїr came home from work only to find her crying over her books. He took her anger and her frustration eagerly if it meant she wouldn’t yell at Darim and right in that time when the world finally looked promising again for the two of them this stupid little pregnancy-test changed colors once more.

And yet, no matter how many times they argued and how many times Altaїr thought about running away and leaving his family behind, when Darim squished his dad's cheeks and said _"I wuv you"_ for the first time all of that anger was forgotten, dead and in the past - at least for him. For Maria the world had looked different, he knew that now and he hated himself for not seeing it then.

"You mustn't let them treat you like that, Altaїr." Desmond sighed when his younger cousin opened the door for him and stepped aside to let him inside the flat.

"I know, but what else shall I do, Des? Quit? I already don't get paid enough. I can be happy that he hired me in the first place without any references or even a High-School-diploma." And he could be glad that Mr. Ivanovic sometimes would pay him a little extra on the quiet for working longer or working on his day off.

Desmond entered the flat and held his gaze focused on Altaїrs face instead of looking around - something the younger male noticed and appreciated a lot, because he knew how Desmond's expression would change when he started to look around and study the mess and the misery unfolding in front of his eyes. As long as Altaїr was here, Desmond would try to not let his mask slip. Well, that too was some kind of support. "I think you already know the answer to this." The tall bartender sighed and took off his (expensive looking) black leather jacket to hang it on the not very trustworthy coat rag next to the door and stepped inside the living room. After he had fed Sef and after the baby had looked satisfied he already put him into bed again and so Desmond first threw a look to the sleeping child.

"I already said I would think about it…" Altaїr mumbled finally and put on his jacket. "Is everything alright? Sef just ate and you know … Well, you know how to handle things I guess. I don’t know when I'm coming home." It was very likely for Mr. Ivanovic to keep him for the rest of the day.

Desmond's eyes were even more accusingly than Sef's normally were when their eyes locked only for a moment and Altaїr knew why. It wasn’t so much because Desmond was forced to play the baby sitter today too - he liked that really - but because Darim expected to see his daddy to pick him up today.

"I need to get going now." He murmured and scratched his neck a little. It wasn’t as if it was easy for him to leave his kids behind like this. Much rather would he spent his day with Sef and play with him and take a nap with him and later pick up Darim to go to the playground with the kids. He only wanted to see them laugh and to show them that their dad did not felt like they were a burden to him. Even though those kinds of thoughts weren't always easy to banish or to put aside. He often wondered what his life would look like if he wouldn’t have become a father with eighteen for the first time.

Where would he be today, if Maria wouldn't have gotten pregnant? Would she still be with him? He had wanted to go to college just like her, but he never really knew what to study. Dancing on the other hand had always been his passion, but only a handful of people knew about this. Maria first laughed when she learned the truth about Altaїr's secret hobby, but that changed rather quickly as soon as she first watched his training. With seventeen – before the pregnancy – he dreamed about going to the _Julliard School_ here in New York or at least to one of the other famous dance academies. Would he be one of those thousands of students to break under the pressure now or would he be one of the few which would start a successful career? Or would he only sit in some dusty old lecture hall to listen to some old professor talking about the economy? What would his parents expect of him? Well, he never knew his mother so he couldn’t tell what she would’ve loved to see him do, but at least he was quite sure she wouldn’t have been very glad to see her boy in this current situation.

No mother would.

And now, while he was running through the rain which just started to accompany him on his way to work, he wished more than ever his mother would be with him to guide her stupid son and took him under her wings. His grandmother on the other hand would’ve already given him a piece of her mind. Sometimes he liked to imagine what she would’ve done in the moment when Altaїr would’ve come to her to announce Maria's pregnancy and every time he was quite sure she would’ve smacked him and scold him like a misbehaving puppy for sticking his dick inside some girl without any kind of prevention – but then she would’ve helped him and Maria. She would’ve stayed by his side to support him.

Perhaps that wasn’t the right way, perhaps he needed to push through this alone to grow with the situation, so he could become a better role model for his sons, so they would learn that one was able to achieve absolutely everything as long as they would fight for it. That’s how it was in the movies, right? Only that real life was no movie. There were no such things as fairy god mothers to fill his fridge or to give him a good job or even a career. He would keep being stuck in some stranger's dirty laundry again and again.

While Mr. Ivanovic was talking on the phone with his wife (or his mistress?), Altaїr was busy with cleaning expensive looking suits and avoiding even the smallest mistakes which could ruin the fabrics until the afternoon hit. And yet his thoughts were already somewhere else. He thought about that guy in the pin-striped suit from before and about the incident in the supermarket where he hadn’t been able to get the cornflakes for his son. This guy belonged to the people who would joyfully step on the _lesser people_ like him and like that it would always be – not only for Altaїr, but for Darim and Sef too and he was worried about Darim's future under those conditions. Darim was a hot-head already – very much like his father – and what if he would get in trouble because of this? Wouldn’t he be better off with Desmond and Shaun?

There really wasn’t that much of a difference anyway if his sons would grow up with him or with his cousin who looked like his reflection anyway. But it really did make a difference: that his phone told him when it once again rang right when Altaїr was about to work on a beautiful designed wedding dress which looked as if someone had either splashed a whole barrel of red wine over it or murdered a bunch of people with a chainsaw while wearing it. Desmond's picture was smiling at him when he pulled his old, scratchy phone from his front pocket only to cast a look over his shoulder to where Mr. Ivanovic was still standing by the backdoor talking on the phone. He did not like to see any of his employees with a phone in their hand and normally Altaїr would never dare to answer a call or do anything else with his phone during work – other than this he never really got time for stuff like that – but Desmond would never call him without good reason while he was working and while he was babysitting the boys, so the decision was faster made than he could hinder his fingers to accept the call in pressing the green button.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately before his cousin could even try to speak. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper to not draw any attention to himself and his conversation, but on the other hand he really did not care that much anyway right now.

"Don’t worry it's not too bad." Desmond started and Altaїr felt his guts wrench. Never in history a conversation which started like that had turned out to be a good one and Altaїr was positive that Desmond must have felt the restlessness he had triggered with his words. It was more like a motherly-instinct to always feel if something was off with their children or to get thin-skinned whenever they knew their children to be in some stranger's care (even though he wouldn’t consider leaving his children in some stranger's care when leaving them with his cousin), but oh well it seemed as if Altaїr would start to adapt into that role slowly. "It's only that Sef is a little bit sick, but don’t worry, I already took care of this and even went to the pharmacy, but I just needed to pick up Darim." Altaїr's gaze shifted towards the clock only to notice that it was two in the afternoon.

"What's wrong with him?" Of course he was alarmed when his baby needed to be picked up early and when his other baby was declared sick. Again he glanced over his left shoulder, but his boss was still on the phone with his … well mistress, judging by the way he was gesticulating.

"He has a slight fever and he threw up in kindergarten that’s why I needed to get him. I think they were afraid he would infect the other kids. But he is demanding his dad. He won't calm down." Altaїr's heart sunk a few stories deeper. Of course a small part of him was gleeful that his son was demanding his daddy when he felt sick and that no one else (not even Desmond) was able to soothe him like that, but it still meant also that he needed to leave work early and this situation was exactly what Mr. Ivanovic revered to as _Bullshit_.

And again he glanced at the clock. Mike would come at four o'clock and would probably replace him then, but until then it was still two hours left to work. "Do you think he can wait two more hours?" He tried with clenched teeth, because he was ashamed to even ask such a stupid question. What kind of father was he even? When someone called him to say his child was sick he was supposed to run home as fast as he could and not beat about the bush like this! Desmond sighed on the other end of the line and in the background he heard Darim cough and then whimper a bit. Oh, Altaїr knew that whimpering well. The little man had a sore tummy, he got that quite often, but it normally wasn’t so bad that he needed to throw up or got a fever. Sef was normally the sick child. "You know what? Forget it." He interrupted Desmond when he heard him taking a breath to answer him. "I'm on my way. Put on the kettle for tea, I'll be there in a few minutes"

Thank god that his flat was so close by.

When Altaїr finally got home Mr. Alfonso was already waiting for him. Outside it was raining cats and dogs again and Altaїr was wet to the bones, so that his clothes were glued uncomfortably to his cold skin. He was so hungry by now even the umbrella stand was looking as delicious as his grandmother's Sunday roast to him. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was certainly Mr. Alfonso and the ongoing rambling over his rent.

"Could we postpone this?" Altaїr sighed before the man could even try to say something to him, but the man and his beer belly blocked the stairs and did not let him pass.

"The money, La-Ahad, the _money_! Don’t you think I wouldn’t have noticed how you always try to sneak past my door!" With every word he spat cigarette smoke was puffing from his mouth - a horrible mixture of beer and bad breath and cigarettes.

"I haven't got paid yet." He replied tiredly. He was tired of the ongoing stupid discussions with this man or really anyone. "I'll give you the rent as soon as I've gotten paid." But of course he knew this wouldn’t appease Mr. Alfonso because it never did. Not this man or really any other landlord Altaїr met until now. Mr. Alfonso was only another in a row of shitty landlords.

"You've got time until tomorrow evening, but if I don’t get it by tomorrow I'll kick you and your brats out. Don’t you think I will have pity with you only because of your little brats! I can't live of pity!" But then he stepped aside to let him pass. Perhaps he really did find a little spark of pity or empathy for the soaked wet young single father and Altaїr used his chance to hurry up the stairs past the guy.

When he arrived at the fourth floor Desmond already opened the door for him after he probably heard the squeaking of Altaїr's wet sneakers on the wooden floor boards. "Well you look like shit." Desmond greeted him almost cheerfully when he let him inside, but Altaїr did not even bother answering that, instead he hurried into his flat and towards the living room only to find Darim lying on the mattress which was their bed. First he was certain the boy was asleep, but then he opened his big blue eyes which reminded Altaїr oh so much on his mother and the way he fell in love with her eyes over and over again. He had no chance of turning his back to his son after this, not even to get rid of his soaked clothes, instead he sat down on the ground next to the mattress, raindrops still dripping from his blue dyed hair tips over his face.

Darim's forehead felt hot when Altaїr pushed back a few strands of hair from his face. "Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" He mumbled quietly while he could already hear Desmond roaming around the kitchen. It sounded a lot like he was really preparing some tea. Sef was fast asleep in his cradle, that Altaїr could see right away when he glanced towards the baby. Of course he wanted to look after him too, but now he needed to take care of Darim first. "My tummy hurts…" Darim complained and Altaїr nodded only a little with a serious face.

"I'll take care of this." He then replied softly, but first he needed to get out of his wet clothes. At least his son seemed to have calmed down a little by now. After Altaїr changed his clothes and sat down on the mattress with his son the tea was fast to calm down the sore tummy of his boy. The little guy was asleep again, his head resting on his father's lap and huddled up in the warm blanket he liked so much, when Desmond sat down on the ground with them. Until now the two adults hadn’t had much time to speak since Altaїr came home, but Altaїr knew this silence wouldn’t last oh so very long. Desmond's eyes were already drilling holes into his face, while Altaїr tried to avoid meeting his cousin's gaze and rather focused on his baby son's sleeping face and gently stroking his hair.

"Altaїr-"

"Ivanovic kicked me out." Altaїr sighed and ruffled through his own hair. He already expected something like this to happen – sooner or later – but not that soon. He was working for Ivanovic only for four weeks now and he already managed to get himself fired. The other jobs were soon to follow; he knew that by heart, because if Darim would stay sick for a few days he wouldn’t be able to go to work. In a city like New York thousands of people – hundred thousand! – were searching for a job right now and it would be quite easy for his bosses to find a decent replacement for him and Altaїr couldn’t really hold it against them, they too needed to feed their families and obtain a business, just like him. In a city like this no one could be considerate of a young single father who barely held his head over water.

He once again spotted the colorful pamphlet which was peeking out of the pocket of his jacket hanging by the heater to dry and finally he looked up at Desmond's face. "I'll go. Frist thing in the morning."


	3. Martini

"Make it stop, Altaїr!"

There really was nothing to be seen of Maria's beautiful face, thanks to the pillow she was pressing against it. One could be easily tricked into believing that she was trying to suffocate herself with that pillow, but Altaїr knew better. The cause of this allegedly suicide attempt too was quite obvious to Altaїr and perhaps (well not only perhaps) to the neighbors too. His son really had strong lungs and when he was screaming it was really easy to get a headache because of this. Normally Altaїr would have run for Darim's crib immediately so soothe his son, but today, when he entered the small flat and closed the door behind himself he felt as if someone would’ve hit him in the head with a jack-hammer.

The flat they were living in did not have a hallway, so if one would enter the flat they would simply barge right into the only room of the little apartment. Over nine months ago they simply fell in love with this little pearl somewhere inside the city of Boston when they searched for a flat they could afford, but now, today, Altaїr really regretted this decision. The only room of the apartment –except for the bathroom of course – was big enough to inherit a small kitchen area, an old wooden table and two mismatched stools, Darim's crib and their … bed (Even though it was more of a double mattress on the ground in disguise). Most of the time Maria took care of cleaning the flat before he came home after a long day of work either on a construction site or at a fast-food restaurant, but now he was reduced to silence by the sight of the flat. To say it would be tidy would be a blatant lie. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in the middle of the apartment and it stunk awfully like soiled diapers.

And really the waist bin which stood next to the fridge nearly flowed over, the dirty dishes of last night's _dinner_ (packaged hot dogs ready for the microwave to cook them in) was still piled up in the sink, the basket with the freshly washed laundry still stood on the dining table and Maria's books still lay around everywhere on the floor.

"Altaїr!" She really was hissing like a cat, even though the pillow and those treacherous downs in her face swallowed most of her anger, but Altaїr knew his beloved well enough to understand her rage anyways and to not make the mistake to underestimate her in her fury. While he was shuffling with his heavy work boots through the room towards Darim's little bed he really gave his best to swallow his own rage, though it was almost impossible.

By now the night had swallowed Boston whole and supplanted the sun like every evening when he came home from work. So the sun needed to travel further only so it could push some poor idiot out of their bed. He was tired and he was hungry. Under his fingernails was the dirt of what seemed to be a millions years - at least he felt this way. He stunk so much of sweat that it shocked even himself and all he wanted to do after a day like this was to part from his dirty clothes only to take a long, hot shower so he could get rid of all the dirt from the construction side and then eat a little something (probably yet another microwaveable hotdog, after Maria surely had not gone grocery shopping today, judging by her behavior). It did not really look or smell as if Maria had cooked anything this day - at least not for him that was for sure. Well to be quite honest it did not look as if she had left her bed all too often that day and she had not cooked for them since Darim's birth at all.

It was like this for a good while now. He came home, tired and hungry and dirty after a long and hard day of labor in the heat of the sun and the baby was crying while Maria was lying in their bed. By now all of their neighbors looked at him as if they wanted to cut off his balls so he couldn’t produce more of those screaming little devilish creatures. Maria hadn't opened her books for college in days now and every time he came home and found her in their bed she appeared as if she was on edge or drowning in despair.

As he now stepped closer to the small bed of his baby son the screaming stopped almost immediately and the boy fixated his father with his huge blue eyes as if he had never seen a creature like him before. Altaїr already knew that this moment wouldn’t last long and really Darim started screaming once again, after he seemingly came to the conclusion that this dirty, stinking man was in fact his father, the same idiot that would always make faces while feeding him - whenever he did get the chance to feed his baby son. From downstairs he could hear a dull knocking sound which really sounded as if someone was knocking their broomstick against the ceiling to alert them to their discomfort of hearing a baby scream the whole time. Altaїr hurried to get Darim out of his bed and to pull him into his arms - and then the miracle happened: Darim stopped crying once again when he was in his father's arms. Altaїr had no clue what the little man wanted from him. He did not smell like he needed some fresh diapers and a small voice inside his head scolded him already for not knowing exactly what his baby needed right now. He should now things like this. He was his father! But he wasn’t with his son often enough to know such things like it seemed.

"Are you hungry, buddy?" He mumbled quietly even though he knew he would not get a decent answer out of his son. "Or did you only wanted to get freed from your prison? You really need to learn how to speak fast, Darim. Your daddy doesn't know what you want otherwise." The sound of his voice seemed to soothe his son and finally Maria put away the pillow form her face.

Her cheeks were flushed red and she looked as if she had cried. Well, that too was nothing new anymore.

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He felt as if he was standing in front of a fucking giant, only armed with some little toothpicks as a weapon to defend himself. In front of him the building rose like a mystical beast, like a golem or even the hydra, ready to rip him apart with every one of its four heads to devour him or to just rip his limbs clean off.

Others probably only saw one of many buildings in this part of New York, only one of many establishments of this category in a row of establishments of this category, but for Altaїr it meant that he had failed horribly.

It took him one full week after he had gotten fired by Mr. Ivanovic until he found his way to this spot. Or, no. He really had been here before, but until now every time he arrived at this location he just turned around immediately again. Every time he had felt like a little girl chickening out at her first date or like little red riding hood running in fear from the big bad wolf.

But today he did not have another choice. He needed to walk this way now; he needed to make the step – even if it was only for the sake of his children.

From outside the nightclub was quite unimpressive, even though it was quite obviously a new building and looked much more modern than the other clubs all around. The big neon sign over the door already screamed the name of the place in big blue and very fine calligraphic letters across the street. _Plan B_ , it read. There were a few photos from the inside of the club printed on the flyer Desmond gave him a while ago, so Altaїr already knew what to expect from the club and yet it did cost him a lot of strength to bridge the final steps between him and the door. On the other hand it really was just a nightclub, right? Well, of course it was a nightclub in which men got undressed for other men, but Desmond assured him he wouldn’t get bothered by this for the most time behind the bar.

For the most time.

It wasn't like Altaїr would have some agenda against gays, after all his cousin was very much gay (or bi, how Desmond preferred to state) and he did not have a problem leaving his children in the care of Desmond and his boyfriend, but yet he felt a little bit weird thinking about working in a place like this.

With a sigh he straightened his back. _Do it for you children!_ , he scolded himself. _Don’t be such a fucking pussy! It's not like someone would force you to dance on the pole now, is it?_

Desmond would never drag him into anything fishy, he was sure of that and yet his feet were again glued to the ground today. It was ridiculous! No grown man would need so much strength to walk into a simple nightclub (even though it was one for guys to look at other guys who got undressed in the most erotic or sexualized way possible). "Come on Ibn-La'Ahad, pull yourself together!" He growled and an elderly lady walking past him gave him a quizzical look. Well he would get a lot of those looks the longer he would keep standing right here like a motionless statue starring into space. Someday they would build him a statue – for _the father who couldn’t overcome his issues and starved tragically_.

His legs felt as if they were made of stone when he finally managed to raise his right foot and make the first step towards the door. He knew that there wasn’t much going on inside the club so early in the morning. Of course some of the staff members already were there and of course there were a few littler shows already starting in the late afternoon, but now around ten in the morning there at least wouldn’t be any customers.

Anyway Altaїr finally approached the front entry just like Desmond told him to do and there was nothing in the world he would like more than having his cousin inside that building right now – but oh well, then he wouldn’t have a babysitter for Sef.

Perhaps it was better this way (he certainly would be less nervous when there was no one he knew) and so when he overcame his last moment of hesitating, he opened the door and entered the nightclub.

It was different than he imagined. There weren't nasty paintings or photographs hanging on the walls and no distasteful chandeliers hanging from the rather high ceiling when he stepped inside the foyer of the establishment. Even the light was not at all dimmed – no! – The foyer was ablaze with light, the checkroom wasn’t occupied yet and the elegant glassy double wing doors with their mahogany lining spoke of luxury and class. It looked so much different now with all the simplistic white light than it did on the photos in the flyer! There was also a comfortable looking bench opposite the checkroom made of what looked like dark leather. He felt a lot more as if he was entering a theatre or a fancy restaurant, but when he opened the glass doors and stepped inside the club he was fast disabused even though the impression the foyer created remained.

It was quite a pleasant surprise to him seeing the aesthetic composition of the interior of the nightclub and of the very clear separation of stage and lounge. The floor was dark, nearly black to be precise and reflected the thousands and thousands of little lights hanging from the ceiling like a sky full of stars. Now they were off, but a few normal neon lamps all around on the wall were on to lit the place.

The bar was undoubtedly the eye-catcher of this lounge and Altaїr caught himself envying his cousin just a little for his workplace. Actually the various stages inside the club should be the eye catcher of this establishment, he guesses, but Desmond's bar itself looked somewhat like a little stage. The counter was black, the surface polished neatly like a mirror and long enough that at least ten people could easily find a seat on the various barstools without getting too close to each other. Even the seats of those barstools were of black leather and the metal of the pole holding the seat was just as neatly polished as everything else so that Altaїr could easily mirror himself in them.

His cousin's workplace was exemplary tidy (even though Desmond was kind of messy and a real slob when he was at home, Altaїr knew he was much fussier as any German could be). The various bottles standing all around on the bar were glistening in the bright light of the neon lamps all around, but now no one was there to maintain the bar. And why should there be anyone anyway?

A little bit clueless as he now was Altaїr remained standing inside he bar-area of the club after he expected someone would wait for him right here for the job interview. Desmond did after all assure his boss that Altaїr would come today for the interview and that was only all the more reason why Altaїr managed to make this step at all, after he fled this location so many times before until now. But now nobody was here waiting for him, instead he heard music and voices blaring from the next room. He did not really want to look through the passage which led into the next room and connected bar and stage.

"No, no, no, not like that!" The voice of a man boomed from the other area and then a loud laugh. "The leg needs to go higher!" It did not sound as much as critic as it should and more like a man who felt a sadistic pleasure in kidding with one of the dancers (or with whomever he was talking to). Well, if he really did not want to go empty handed and without having achieved a thing he did not have another choice than at least peeking inside the stage-area to make himself known to anyone even though he was a little bit frightened of what he could encounter by doing so. Slowly he walked in the direction of the passage way and already braced himself for encountering oily and half naked man lolling around on poles – or worse.

He was disappointed (?), for there was nothing like this waiting for him inside the next room. There really were a few men on the other side of the passage, not as many as he expected originally, only a hand full at most and not a single one was half naked (or fully naked) or at least oily. There was only one of them who did not stand around doing nothing and staring into space and he was not so much lolling on the pole as he was climbing the fucking thing like a monkey. The only thing naked on this guy were his feet and his arms.

In fact what he was doing did not look so much as dancing as it looked like acrobatics. Of course Altaїr knew very much that pole dancing was not as much dancing as it was sport (after all he wasn’t living on the other side of the moon), but he never seen it live and especially not once had he seen a man doing this.

The guy climbing the pole wasn’t really a giant and even from afar Altaїr would state he was probably shorter than Altaїr himself. He had long, dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail with a simple red ribbon. His skin tone was pretty light, so light in fact that it reminded him a little bit of Maria. His eyes were dark and there was a delicate scar running from his nose over his left cheek. Other men would be horribly disfigured by a scar like this, but this guy wasn’t.

He needed to look twice until he finally understood that those other guys weren't really staring into space and standing around useless. Two of them were stretching (even though it looked more like they wanted to show off how long their legs were) and the other three were watching entranced what the guy on the pole was doing.

For a moment Altaїr felt again like back then when he first walked into the exercising room of the community center in Boston by his grandmother's side. His grandfather had been a stubborn donkey who had never come to terms with his daughter's husband of choice (who was Altaїr's father). The old man had hated Umar, a lot like Maria's family had hated him. To him his grandpa felt always a little stiff and the guy never really opened up to his grandson, but now Altaїr guessed beneath the hard shell there had been a heart of gold buried somewhere deep (deep, deep, deep) in his wide chest, because no matter how rough he behaved around Altaїr, it had been him who always came to search for the monsters in his closet and under his bed to shoo them away, whenever the little boy did have a bad dream. Perhaps he and his grandpa never grew too close or attached to each other, not so much as all the other grandsons and grandparents in his kindergarten had been anyway, but he had been incredibly sad when the old guy finally died.

His grandma, this gentle-hearted woman, took him to the community center right after the death of her husband. Back then all she wanted to achieve was to distract him for a few weeks until he would lose interest in dancing, but a few years after this she told him that she never really expected for him to really like it so much or that he would stick to it.

Back then by the age of eight his grandma had opened a whole new world for him when they entered this room in the community center where the children were taught how to dance hand in hand. He felt like he did then, a little bit intimidated and on the same instant incredibly exited. He still remembered how he entered the room and watched the other children preparing for the lesson, stretching and chatting and fooling around. And he also remembered still the respect he felt when he first saw the ballet pole and the wall with this large, large mirror which was covering the whole wall and how he later watched the older girls in their ballet shoes and their tutus. But he also remembered very vividly how much the other boys in school always taunted him after they learned about his secret little hobby. Dancing was for girls, that was something he really learned early on in his life.

Especially ballet.

"Hey Mr. Bossman, looks like we have a visitor!" Altaїr was ripped from his thoughts so abruptly that he really forgot for a moment what he was even doing here. It was the guy on the pole (which he now slid down oh so nonchalantly like a firefighter) who had spoken. There was only one other guy (except for Altaїr) who was clothed normally and this very guy stood right in front of the stage which was occupied by this firefighter in disguise. He was wearing a dark suit and was quite tall. From afar Altaїr would judge his figure to be quite ordinary, but what would this mean anyway? He seemed to be a bit slim, perhaps not as slender as Altaїr was and he had a crown of jet black, short hair, alas his hair looked as if his last visit to the hairdressers was a long time ago for the tips of his hair were already so long that it curled a little. Would he decide to let it grow any longer he really would get cute curls and he reminded him a little of Sef like this.

When said person ( _Mr. Bossman_ ) turned around to look who the hell the intruder was his dancer had seen, the bluest eyes Altaїr had ever seen flashed him immediately. The skin of the young man was quite tanned and perhaps one or two shades darker than Altaїr's own skin which was a little pale because of the always bad weather of the last weeks and life in general as it was in the US. Almost instantly Altaїr needed to think of his beloved uncle Yusuf back there where he came from. He had not heard from him in a long while now. The last time he spoke with his uncle was perhaps shortly before he and his family moved to Istanbul in Turkey and that was already ten years ago. Since then a lot had happened in his life – things he liked to talk about with his always so understanding and cheerful uncle.

Perhaps it was only that he liked to think his Uncle would have supported him all the way since Darim's birth.

"Ah! There he is!" The guy in the suit exclaimed grinning, his arms extended in a welcoming gesture which Altaїr too was only used to from the people of his home country. Of course, he went to Syria last when he visited his uncle back when Yusuf still lived in Jerusalem, but he still remembered very vividly how open the people over there had been. No matter where he and his uncle went, the men always greeted them with literally open arms and a huge smile on their faces. His grandpa thought it necessary that Altaїr would visit his home country regularly so he would never forget his roots – a really nice gesture of him and very thoughtful for sure, but sadly from the mouth of his grandpa it always sounded like he was talking about an animal in the zoo which needed to be released into the wild again.

The young man walking towards him now was undoubtedly from Arabian heritage and the closer he got to him the clearer it became to Altaїr, but he was speaking without even the smallest hint of an accent, just like he was born in the US or at least had been raised here like Altaїr. He did not really know why but seeing that Desmond's boss was Arab made him feel less uneasy.

The stranger extended his hand to greet him even though Altaїr almost expected a hug or a clap on the shoulder or the back. "Al-Sayf." He introduced himself when he shook (a little too enthusiastically) Altaїr's hand. "You must be Desmond's cousin. Ibn-La'Ahad right?" He was probably the first person over here in the US to ever pronounce his name right (even Desmond simply couldn’t do it – not that he would really hold it against him).

"Y-Yes." He immediately replied and cursed his little stammer when it left his lips. Perhaps it was the cheerful way of this stranger which made him stammer. After all Desmond always described his boss very differently whenever he talked about him. Mr. Al-Sayf – as Desmond described – was a rather grumpy man with eyebrows that were always knotted together in a tight frown. Desmond never saw him smile or smirk or grin since he started working in this place (which were three years already by now). This young man on the other hand was the complete opposite of what Desmond described. Well, perhaps Desmond only never saw his boss in a cheerful mode. "Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad." He introduced himself finally. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm very happy that I'm given the opportunity to apply for this job."

The young man waved dismissively at him and then pointed towards the bar – away from the lurking dancers who were watching them like a swarm of hungry crows. "Do you have any experience in working as a bartender already?"

Altaїr was able to feel the huge rock which sunk into his stomach and filled it to the brim when he was asked this very question. Of course he knew he would hear this very question and yet he had been afraid to hear it the whole time. "No." Her said truthfully, after all what would it help to lie about it? The truth would show its ugly face some way or another anyway. While he followed Mr. Al-Sayf to the bar he already searched in his messenger bag for his documents which he brought with him. It wasn’t much, only a few High School certificates before he dropped out and one or two references of former employers. Not that he really thought those documents to be of any value to him right now. "But I am a very quick learner and Desmond already showed me one or two tricks. Other than that I have experience when it comes to working with customers and-"

"Alright, alright!" The owner of the _Plan B_ laughed and waved his left hand around as if he was trying to scare off an annoying fly or as if he wanted to underline his words and take away the worries which manifested themselves in Altaїr's brain (which were rather obvious in the way Altaїr stuck out his documents towards the man only to crumble them further with his nervous fingers). "Everyone starts somewhere, right? Desmond told me a while ago he never mixed a single drink before he came to New York and started his career at the _Bad Weather_. You've got yourself the best teacher there it out there when it comes to this."

Well when he's right, he's right, Altaїr could only agree with that. He still remembered the day Desmond left Boston, only eighteen years old and with nothing more than his backpack and his boyfriend who already waited for him in the new city, and the way he explained to his kid-cousin that he was going away and become a bartender. Altaїr was only thirteen years old then and he just understood that Desmond was dating another guy, thus he did not liked the idea of him going away at all, but it seemed as if Desmond never really regretted his decision to go until today and this thought gave him strength now. Best things in life don’t happen when you're not willing to risk something. "Well I guess you're right with that." He finally answered a little embarrassed when he put down his documents again to shove them back into his bag.

Mr. Al-Sayf's grin even grew a little on this before he took a seat on one of the barstools and crossed his legs so he could turn towards the counter. "Well then!" He began and clapped his hands. "How about we start with a sweet little test? I love tests. Make me a martini."

He couldn’t help but swallow a bit because of the lump in his throat. Desmond showed him how to make a martini and yet he wasn’t here to guide him! Well on the other hand what did he expect? Altaїr noticed that Mr. Al-Sayf never let him out of sight while he stepped behind the counter and put away his bag somewhere to the side so he wouldn’t stumble over it and destroy the whole fucking bar. Should he try to make a show of this? A barkeeper was also an entertainer, that was what Desmond always told him about his job but wouldn’t it be best to only concentrate on making this drink in a decent quality now during the test? When he grabbed the first bottle to start his work he noticed the little sparkling in the big blue eyes of the guy and he finally got it. The test was not if he was able to make a decent martini, the test was how he made it and if he decided whether to just mix the thing or if he decided to make a show of it and played the bragger.

A small voice inside Altaїr's head demanded to do exactly that: to play the bragger, to make a show, to show off his nonexistent skills. It was this very impulse which led him to _accidently_ throw a football at Maria Thorpe's head so many years ago. Well on the other hand, if he would have never followed this impulse Maria would have never screamed at him for his clumsiness, they would never have fought in the middle of the hallway while all the other students have watched them and conclusively Maria would have never gone out with him. Some people would propose that it would have been best if it would have happened this way, because this way he wouldn’t be in this very situation now and he wouldn’t be alone with two little kids.

He decided to not follow this impulse this time anyway and he was a little bit proud of himself for it when he started to mix the drink and noticed how the owner of the _Plan B_ leant back a little bit more relaxed.

"Well…" He began again, even though Altaїr tried to only concentrate on mixing the drink. "Desmond never told me much about his infamous cousin. Do you have any family? Kids? A wife or girlfriend? The only thing your cousin said about you was that you … Well, that you don’t share his bias and that you were a little hesitant to apply here at this location because of this."

Only for a short moment he flashed Mr. Al-Sayf a small glance, but then he grabbed one of the martini glasses from one of the shelves in his back. He did not have olives at hand, but he guessed Desmond stored them in the small fridge underneath the counter. "Yes, that’s right." He replied quietly and decided to use this moment when he searched for the olives in the fridge to think of an answer. He opened the little white fridge underneath the counter and grabbed one of the little colorful toothpicks so he could spike two olives immediately. When he came back to the surface he was again confronted with those big blue eyes and he knew he wouldn’t get away without really answering this question.

"No… No, I don’t have kids." He then lied right away when he neatly let the clear liquid flow inside the glass and shoved same glass towards the man. He knew his martini would never be as good as the one Desmond would fabricate, but he had given his best and yet he couldn’t be proud of himself when Mr. Al-Sayf turned his glass from one side to another and finally took a little sip before he nodded approvingly. The guilt of having disowned his children was heavy on his mind and yet this lie had escaped his lips so naturally.

And it was exactly this, what frightened him. It shouldn’t be as easy for him to disown his children. And yet it did not even take him a second. A small part of him reassured him that it was the right decision. This Mr. Al-Sayf was a business man, he was managing a nightclub, more so a strip club. He was managing a strip club for gay guys. People like this man had other things on their minds than dealing with the problems of some guy who had been too stupid to use a fucking condom (twice).

It was better this way and yet he could hardly manage a smile when he left a few minutes later with his contract in his hands to go back to Desmond's flat.

"What's with this long face?" His cousin greeted him finally when he let him inside the flat. "Oh no! Don’t say it did not work!"

He would much rather say it did not work out. He would much rather have buried himself somewhere under a pile of dirty clothes or something like that. He would much rather have fled from the Plan B without signing the contract which bound him to the nightclub and his new position as a barkeeper in training after he betrayed his sons like this. Instead he fell on Desmond's big, comfortable, black leather couch and ruffled through his hair while he sunk deep, deep, deep into the leather and stared at the white ceiling. Sef was nowhere to be found. He was probably asleep in the bedroom of Desmond's big apartment. It was better like this. Would he need to see his baby boy right now, he would feel only worse – and rightfully so.

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"Well then, what is this new guy like?" Malik sighed when he rested his back against the black car. He liked his car very much and thus it was always polished as neatly as his shoes were. His brother always complained about him being way too fussy about such things and that it simply was not necessary to always have a neatly polished car (or shoes). But his brother was way younger than him and did not understand such things yet. Of course, some could say two years weren't much of an age gap, but it weren't just two years. Sometimes Malik looked at his brother Kadar and thought he was from another dimension. Not that he would not love the stupid little guy, but he sometimes was not so sure if he really was his baby brother or if there had been a cuckoo bird involved. They were like day and night at times. And yes, Kadar was only two years younger than his boring, fussy, older brother, but he had the mindset of a toddler (at least that was what Malik thought most of the time). Only reluctantly he left his brother in charge over his businesses every now and then when he needed to take care of other … things.

Today was such a day and Malik was fearful for what would await him. Beside him Kadar took a deep inhale of the possibly deadly nicotine of his cigarette. By now Malik did not even bother anymore to flash his little brother an angry or disgusted look when he did so (or even to went as far as giving him a lecture about the dangers of smoking). Kadar was after all an adult now – at least that was what his ID said. He was allowed to smoke those little coffin nails.

"He's nice." Kadar chuckled. "He has a lot to learn yet, but he looks like Desmond. That's a good thing, right? The people always want to see more of Desmond, now they get him in the double. But he's really easy to mess with. I don’t think he's the most intelligent we have."

His brother's blue eyes glistened mockingly in the light of the lantern they stand next to. Malik liked to park his car as far away from the _Plan B_ as possible, even though his brother could probably never understand this little quirk. On the other hand Malik had much worse quirks than that which no one really understood. It was already dark, which was nothing too spectacularly considering the season of the year. Malik always liked autumn and winter and he loved the long dark periods during the day, while the summer nights seemed always too short.

"What have you done this time?" Malik sighed, but he did his best not to look at his brother's face, instead he only crossed his arms and flashed one small glance at the display of his phone. He needed to make a few phone calls later tonight. There was business to tend to. There was always business to tend to. After a while it got exhausting, but he really had no other choice.

"Nothing too bad. I only played a little with him. But they guy is a liar, so we need to have a close eye on him." Kadar then explained and let his cigarette fall to the ground only to stomp on it. This time Malik really flashed him an angry glare. When there was one thing he hated more than smoking it was when people dumped their cigarettes so close to his property.

"He can lie as much as he fucking wants to, for all I care."

"And what if he steals from you? I mean I trust Desmond and he never disappointed us." Kadar's face only rarely was serious, but now he was and Malik did not like that too. He was the serious brother not Kadar although it was quite stupid to even think something like that. But for the most part it was not a good sign when Kadar became so serious. Malik did not care much about his employees and why should he really?

"You know how I deal with thieves."

With that Malik shoved his phone back into the front pocket of his black trousers and patted his brother's shoulder. Without another word he left Kadar where he was. "What did they say?" Kadar then asked and raised his voice ever so slightly before he followed his brother a few steps.

Malik only shrugged his shoulders. "They said their not a thread to us. They just try to fuck with the big boys. The others decided to let them play for a little, but we will do something about them when they will get too much over their heads. Don’t worry about those punks from now on."

Kadar moaned behind him and Malik could vividly imagine the face he was making. "Yeah-yeah! Moreover, what about my fucking car? Who's gonna pay for that now?"

"Don’t be such a baby; the car wasn’t any good anyway. Buy a new one for god's sake." He waved over his shoulder with his right hand while he shoved his left hand into his front pocket and felt his phone under his fingertips. This was yet another of his quirks. He wouldn’t say he was dependent of his phone, but he liked to feel it was there at all times. It put his mind at ease.

"Oh come on Malik! What if it was your car? What if I sat in my stupid car when it exploded? You would feel sorry then for mocking me!" Kadar yelped like a puppy-dog after someone accidently stepped on its tail, but Malik only grinned and left the small alley he had parked his car in.


	4. "Mr. Al-Sayf"

He stank of chip fat and beef (or rather he stank of what posed as the beef they stuffed their burgers with).This was not all that unusual. No, not at all.Only the events, which led to him standing here now and taking orders, were unusual - at least by his standards. It had started quite promising after his initial skepticism of working in a nightclub - in a strip club, to be exact. At first everything in him had been rebelling against the work there, then, after the first shock had been digested, he had even rejoiced that he had been accepted for such a well-paid job and with so little effort too (even if his bad conscience was still gnawing at him for having disowned his precious children).

But then everything happened quite differently and that was why he stood here and took the orders of some teenagers at the drive-in counter, while he was wearing this ridiculous uniform which caused almost every singly guest to make fun of him. Again - for the seventh time that day - his phone vibrated in his pocket and again - for the seventh time this day - he pulled it out of his dark pants glanced at the screen only for a second, rolled his eyes and pushed it back.

Desmond.Again.

Of course, he had to at least look at his phone although it was against the company's rules and it was hard to not accept the call but ignore it.After all, it could be something with Sef or Darim, but after the way he and his cousin had parted ways in the morning - Well.

"Altaїr!" A voice called from the front. He felt horribly hungover as he nodded at his colleague to gesture that she should take his seat at the counter. The young girl (she was no more than seventeen years old), sighed annoyed and made a bubble with her gum, which really severely violated the regulations of the company. He would love to say his mood today was caused by a long night of wild partying, but the truth was that Baby-Sef had been crying all night. The poor little guy was teething. He did for a while now, but at the moment, it seemed particularly bad. Altaїr felt sorry for his baby boy, of course!, but he felt even more sorry for himself. Darim too barely slept last night. Perhaps it would be better if he would leave Darim tonight at Shaun and Desmond's place so the boy could get a good night's rest again.

And yet, even if it had not been for Sef crying all night, he probably would not have slept anyway. There was too much stuff going on in his head. Last night Mr. Alfonso had besieged their door for two hours straight because Altaїr had still not managed to pay him the full rent, despite the advance he had received from Desmond. Moreover, the next-door neighbors had repeatedly complained because of Sef. What if he had made a big mistake at the _Plan B_? Should he rather have waited and not hand in his notice so precipitously (if anyone would even call it that)? Maybe he did have overreacted a bit. On the other hand, he had not thought they would try to fuck with him, not after Desmond had vouched for those people. Perhaps he even was partly angry with Desmond, but he did not believe that his cousin had made him fall into the trap of those people deliberately. No, not Desmond. He was not such a person. He would not do something like this neither to a stranger, nor to his worst enemy and least of all to a family member!

His colleague at the front counter gestured to him that he should take the spot at the stove again to cook the beef for the burgers and he did so without any complaint. They of course did have a service schedule to regulate who was taking charge of certain things – but no one really cared during working hours. Therefore, there was hardly a day in which he would manage to avoid standing at the stove, so his uniform would not gest stained with the hot grease of the pans. At least he did not need to talk to anyone while working at the stove and thus he had time to think about what had happened (not that he would not have done so anyway before).

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The day he was meant to begin his new career as a bartender at the _Plan B_ had started remarkably well. The sun had awakened Altaїr after a surprisingly good night. Actually, the night had been so relaxing that he had caught himself panicking and bending over Sef's crib to see if his baby was still breathing, after the boy had slept through the whole night without crying _once_. But little Sef had greeted his stupid father only with big, brown eyes curiously staring up at his father as if he would see him for the very first time in his life. In fact, there had not even been this little frown in his face for the first time in a long while and for the first time in a long while, the boy had not looked criticizing at him. Almost Altaїr had felt not like a total failure this very morning. Even Darim had been in good spirits during breakfast and had a little less than normal complained over his new arch nemesis Tazim while he had munched his cornflakes (the cheap version of his beloved L _ucky Charms,_ because his father was a wuss).

 _Today is a good day,_ Altaїr thought finally, when he found himself on the way to his cousin's. Today he would have all day to have Desmond teaching him a few new tricks and he could not wait to enter the nightclub tonight and brag with his new skills (even though he would probably make a fool of himself, judging by his overall clumsiness). With this job, his life would finally take a turn for the good - he was sure of this. He would probably need to keep his job as a cleaner for a short period of time while working as a bartender, but Mr. Al-Sayf was paying good money (at least that was what his Desmond said) and so he would be able to finally pay back his debts quickly. Fortunately, Desmond and Shaun were very patient creditors. Maybe he could even move into a slightly bigger apartment then, perhaps even a little bit closer to Desmond’s place. However, the most important thing was that he was finally able to go and buy decent furniture for his children and that he could finally offer them the home they deserved to grow up in.

"Don't laugh too soon." Desmond grinned before he patted him on the fingers and showed him once more how to throw the tumbler into the air without spilling any of the liquid inside. "The job is back-breaking work, but you are not allowed to show that to your customers. So! Do it once more from the beginning and now:" He put the tumbler down on the counter in his kitchen without having spilled a single drop of water and shoved his index fingers into the corners of Altaїr's mouth to push them apart. "Smile." Presumably, it looked less like a smile than a snarl. Sef however, was thrilled. He sat in his high chair (for his cousin could afford a highchair for _his_ baby, not like his loser of a dad) and wriggled happily, as he sucked fervently on his pacifier and watched as his dad played the clown. Yes, his baby boy always loved to see how his stupid father made a fool of himself. Altaїr remembered the first time he hear Sef squeal with enjoyment very vividly, for his son decided it was quite funny when his father hit his head against a shelf.

"That's easier said than done." Altaїr grumbled and could feel how his eyebrows were pulling together as he tried desperately to keep up his smile while he took the tumbler again between his fingers. He was not necessarily clumsy (most of the time), quite the opposite really (most of the time) and also he learned very quickly (most of the time), but he got easily frustrated whenever he couldn’t manage to learn as quickly as he liked to. The fact that throwing the metal cup into the air without being showered was way more difficult than it should be, was only adding to his frustration.

"And that's really okay tonight?" He murmured softly as the cup once again fell to the floor and he bent down to pick it up again. It would probably take a while until he could get the hang of it. It looked always so easy when Desmond did all this stuff and Altaїr always admired his older cousin for the way he was whirling his utensils around or balancing them nonchalantly on his elbow (or wherever on his body he deemed appropriate for doing his tricks). "I mean is Shaun okay with this?"

"Let the old guy be my concern." Desmond chuckled softly.

That was easier said than done too.Altaїr was not a robot and even if he did not like Shaun Hastings at all, his cousin was way too important to him than getting him into trouble with his boyfriend.He might be a little selfish sometimes, but he certainly was not completely ignorant.No, he had learned his lesson.At least ... at least he wanted to believe that. He wanted to hope that he was no longer the same arrogant idiot who had thrown himself to his doom at the tender age of seventeen against the better judgment of all the people around him. "Sef is teething." He murmured."Maybe you get very little sleep."

 _Maybe Shaun is annoyed having **my** children here all the time,_ he thought, but he did not say it. _Maybe Shaun is fed up with constantly watching **my** children,_ he thought, but he kept it to himself. _Maybe he's tired of the whole thing and breaks up with you._ _I do not want you two to break up because of me._ For a moment, he thought of the stubborn thirteen-year-old child that he was back in Boston when Desmond had introduced his boyfriend to him. Oh, he had hated Shaun like the plague right from the start. _He is much too old for you!_ He had hissed like a mad cat, but actually, he had wanted to say: _Don't go to New York without me. Don’t leave me alone_ _._ Today, of course, he understood why Desmond needed to go.It wasn't just because Shaun had got a job as a professor at the NYU and it wasn’t as if Desmond couldn’t have become a bartender in Boston too.

"So what? I'm used to short nights and a lot of sleep doesn't make the old man any prettier anyway. He does not say it, but Shaun is happy that you have finally found a _decent_ job. I mean, hey! That's quite nice, right? For me it always is: _Find yourself a real job already, Desmond!_ And: _Will you finally grow up?_ Honestly, he sounds like my father! But when it comes to you bartending is suddenly a reasonable job." The man chuckled.

Desmond had a nice laugh – he had always felt that way – and the older one probably did not even know that himself. His voice had that pleasant bass, especially when he laughed. His laugh always sounded a little bit smoky. Somehow he always felt soothed hearing him laugh and when his cousin was laughing he got those nice little wrinkles all around the outer corners of his eyes which gave a certain kind of sympathy and depth to his face which Altaїr lacked completely. That was why people always liked Desmond and that was why people always looked at Altaїr as if they were unsure what to make of him.

Altaїr could not help but smile and finally he managed to master this damned little trick with the tumbler. Sef clapped his chubby little hands enthusiastically. "So?" He finally asked. "When are you finally gonna open up your own bar?"

Desmond smirked before he scratched his neck. He knew his cousin well enough to know that he knew more than he wanted to say whenever he scratched his neck and Altaїr would not push him, so the younger one scratched his right ear in a silent confirmation to not grill him. "Well, who knows? I'm still looking for a suitable location and I think the boss won't let me go anyway. On the other hand he might help me a little to get started now that he has you to replace me."

"Well, who knows?" Altaїr laughed and pushed his right hand into the pocket of his jeans. He felt his cell phone under his fingertips and he did not know exactly why, but it was a relaxing sensation. He certainly was not dependent on his phone as those teenagers on public transportation always were, but he liked to feel that his phone was there. This was only one of his little quirks, which no one really seemed to understand. "But if I go on like this it will take quite a while until I am able to _replace_ you."

"Oh, as long as you make a friendly face and don’t always look like you have just bitten into three dozen lemons the customers will forgive you most mistakes." Desmond grinned and pinched his cheek.It was no use to fight back, so he did not even try it. "Well what should I do? This is just what my face looks like."

Around noon, his cousin told him it would be wise to sleep for a little while if he wanted to work tonight, so Altaїr did as he was told and made himself comfortable with Sef in Desmond’s living room on his big leather couch. No wonder his cousin liked taking care of the children so much, because then he always had an excuse to take a little nap every once in a while without being called lazy. Desmond's couch was heavenly soft and a small part of him wanted to never get up again.

In the moment when he wrapped himself and his baby son in a blanket and got comfortable with Sef in his arms his life was nearly perfect.The smell of his son filled his nose and almost made him forget what lay behind him and also the rage he felt day after day after day for the world.What needs a man more than to have his children around him and to know they're safe?

A man needs a save job.A man needs a decent home so that his children are safe from the dangers of the world. A man has to bring food to the table for his children.

That is what a man needs. This man, however, right here in this moment needed sleep more than anything else in the world before he would go to work tonight. Only yesterday, he had had his little interview and today they would throw him into the deep end and see how he made a fool of himself in front of the customers. Well, at least he did not have to dance on the pole. For the brief moment before he finally fell asleep, he concentrated only on Sef and the way how his small, delicate fingers clamped on his shirt.

It was Shaun, who woke him. The history professor was hovering so closely over him that his ridiculously pale face was filling his whole field of vision. Altaїr was living with two young children. He was accustomed to have something in his face that did not belong to his own body when he woke up in the morning. However normally it was Darim's foot and not the face of (his nemesis) some British dude named Shaun. In fact, he jerked so violently that he instinctively pressed Sef tighter against his chest and almost wiggled away from his attacker. The next moment he realized that it was not Sef, which he held in his arms, but one of the sofa cushions and his panic only grew tremendously. There was a reason why it was a big no-no to have infants sleeping in the bed with their parents! Had he rolled over him without even realizing it? Men simply did not have those strong instincts as women!

But then he heard an "Uncle Dessie! Sef stinks!" from the kitchen and everything was good - even if the feeling of having sweat gallons during those few second consistently held his mind under control. "Wow ... Don't scare me like that you idiot." He moaned softly when he again fell back into the sofa cushions and ruffled through his hair.

"A good day to you too, Sir. I hope his Highness slept well?" Oh, he hated that smug tone and this thick British accent. Shaun knew that - that's why he would always give his very best to thicken his accent even more whenever he spoke to Altaїr.

"What time is it?" He murmured sleepily as he sat up slowly and only shortly threw another glance at Shaun. The history professor looked very much like he always did and Altaїr was somewhat curious to have a look at his dresser only to see if all of his clothes were cord jeans and button up shirts. "How long have I slept?" Was he imagining things now or was the sun about to set outside the large windows of Desmond’s flat?

"Time for dinner. You've slept through the whole day." Shaun grinned and it did not even look rudimentary sorry. He simply stepped aside as Altaїr jumped off the sofa and on to his feet. "What?! And you let me sleep?!"

"You looked so peaceful - just like a baby." Shaun smirked.

"Yes very funny." Altaїr growled when he was already on his way to the kitchen. He almost felt bad because the image that Desmond offered when he entered the kitchen was already way too familiar. The way he held Sef in his arms and the way he apparently was not even bothered by the smell of his full diaper while he stirred in the pot caused the small little voice in his head more and more to tell him repeatedly what a bad father he was.

It looked so easy how Desmond juggled his children. All the things Desmond would do seemed easy. Darim was going to set the table as if it were the most normal thing in the world - and that it was probably. Desmond was a natural even though the guy never wanted to have children of his own. The scolding he got from his foster parents was nothing in comparison with the one he got from Desmond, when he told him about Maria's pregnancy back then. But now his cousin was doing all those things as if _he_ was the father of those two boys. And – that was probably the worst part – it felt like Desmond was their father. His kids had a clear structure when they stayed here. They got decent food into their bellies and warm beds. They did not need for freeze in here. And Altaїr too felt pretty much as if he was one of Desmond’s children.

Just for a second Desmond threw him a look over his shoulder, but this short glance probably was enough for his cousin to check him extensively. "Go take a shower. You need to leave in thirty minutes. Shaun will give you a lift."

"I can walk." He would not say: _Don’t make such a fuss because of me_! Because he simply did not care if he would cause Shaun any inconveniences. Desmond knew that very well, but - perhaps to keep up appearances - he said: "Don’t worry. He needs to drive to the campus anyway. If his head wouldn’t be fixated to his body he would forget more than just his papers at the office." and waved the wooden spoon in his general direction (like Altaїr recalled Desmond’s mother always doing when he sneaked into her kitchen whenever he wasn’t supposed to).

Altaїr decided to refrain from further discussions and rather turned on his heel to retrieve to the bathroom, because as long as no one came to carry him on their hands no one would take this chore from him. Bullocks.

Desmond's bathroom was at least twice, if not three times, the size of his, even though he would probably never call his own bathroom a _bathroom_. It was more a wet room. In Desmond's bathroom on the other hand was a wide, height-adjustable sink waiting for him. The shower was a glass cubicle in which two grown men would easily find room together and the large bathtub did not look like it would only invite children to have fun in it. While Altaїr - as always when he was here - tried not to imagine what his cousin and his boyfriend were usually up to in this room, he finally undressed and put his things aside neatly folded, even though he knew that Desmond would throw his things into the washing machine, once Altaїr would turn his back to the apartment, whether he wanted it or not.

He found Desmond's uniform hanging on the towel bar. It did not look as if it were the remnants of last night, but more as if it had been washed and ironed for the next day, ready for Desmond to put it on again. He himself had no uniform yet, but surely, he would get one soon. Mr. Al-Sayf probably first wanted to see if he was any good for the job before he would invest money in him. Very possibly, it was expected of him that he would buy one himself.

Just as he turned on the water of the shower so it would run hot before he stepped into the cubicle he heard a knock on the door. Normally Desmond knocked never when he was in the bathroom – No. actually that was not true. Desmond never knocked on the bathroom door in _Altaїr's_ apartment when his little cousin was inside. Oh no, at his house Desmond normally simply burst in, but when they were in _Desmond's_ flat it seemed every time as if he very suddenly decided to remember the manners which he had probably learned during his life.

"Yes?" Altaїr shouted over the noise of the shower, even though he could barely hold back a grin and the twitching of his mouth was resonating in his voice. Desmond could probably hear it.

"Put on the uniform when you're done. I lend you mine until you have your own." His cousin was just the best _not-_ brother one could have. Altaїr could only be gracious that his relatives in Syria decided to send him away to the US so they did not need to bother themselves with him, because otherwise he would probably have never met Desmond.

"Thanks Man. I owe you." He shouted again through the door and tried to be as calm as possible and to sound as if it were the most normal thing in the world - only that it was not. Such uniforms were not cheap, he knew that, and it was not self-evident that his cousin always helped him out of trouble when he had problems or that he took care of his children. It was also not self-evident that his cousin would take a night shift as a babysitter for his children only because he – the father of said children - had to work. Altaїr did not want his cousin to believe he would feel as if those things were self-evident for Altaїr – only that he had troubles to express his gratitude for the older cousin. Part of him hoped that Desmond knew even without him saying it. Maybe this was a bit naive of him.

And perhaps someday this naivety of his would come right back at him.

To take a shower here in Desmond's apartment always was a like having died and gone to heaven, whenever he got the chance of enjoying it. When he was at home his showers were mostly short lived and mostly cold (like very, very cold), after the hot water always was gone after just a few seconds of him standing in his little shower cabin. During summer, he did not have that much trouble dealing with the cold water, but now that it was already October and winter was lurking right around the next corner, he used to jump from one foot to the other while showering. Here at Desmond's place he finally, after a long time, had again the chance of really enjoying the hot water and simply stand there to let the water pearl over his naked skin.

It was no secret that he was not a fan of water - even though there had been times in his life in which it was different, but here under the stream of warm water - at least for the moment - he came to a halt, because there was so much more going on in his head than he was willing to admit. For a moment, he thought about the time – that time before he had had children – when he had hardly known what worrying meant. He had known sorrow, yes, but _worry_?

There had always been someone to catch him when he fell. There had been always someone to support him whenever he needed support. His parents had died and he had been passed like a bowl of unwanted peas during thanksgiving dinner from family member to family member, but at least there had been always people to care for him – in some way or another.

Each and every one of them in their own way.

He'd never have to worry about not being caught so he would fall right on his nose to learn his lesson, but yet they had done it. But no, that was not right. His family did not drop him, he - the great Altaїr - had decided it would be the right time to plunge from his nest with seventeen, resisting all reason and advice.

Today, he was an adult and each day was filled with worry, but he suspected that simply was something parenthood brought with it. The world was suddenly a much darker and much more frightening place once one had children of their own. Even that was something no one had prepared him for. It was crazy how fast he had begun to see a potential aggressor in every single stranger, who could harm his loved ones.

He actually wanted to laugh at it, but the truth was that he, four years later, was far more anxious today than at that time and even in his new boss he saw a potential threat to his little family. Perhaps that was the reason why he stopped for a little moment when he stepped out of the shower and ruffled through his hair with a towel, before he looked at the uniform of his cousin again. He did not need to worry about if it would fit or not, yet he tried to avoid slipping into it as long as he could.

Now that the water had stopped running and he was allowed to the sounds of the apartment, again he heard Darim laughing and finally, with a sigh, he began to dress. If it wouldn’t be for his boys, he would have no problem whatsoever to stand behind the counter of a fast food restaurant for the rest of his life. Only that he was not alone anymore. And because he was no longer alone, he climbed into the black dress pants of Desmond's uniform.

The uniform had style and class, just like the interior of the _Plan B_ itself that he really needed to credit Mr. Al-Sayf. In most bars Altaїr visited by now (even though he had never been to a strip club before) the bartenders hadn’t been dressed up in uniform but had worn simply the clothes that had fallen from their closets.

For a moment, after he had finished dressing, he paused and thanked all the gods he knew that his cousin and he did sport at least a few different features, otherwise he would hardly recognize himself in the mirror right then and there.

In fact, Desmond's white dress shirt was just a bit too big for him, after all this time of him avoiding sport mostly and because of his bad eating habits. The vest with its low cut back however was perfect. He was just about to straighten the fly he wore around his neck underneath the plain white collar when he heard a knock on the bathroom door once again. “Hey buddy you need to get going!” Desmond’s voice again sounded through the wooden door.

“I’m done!“ He replied without even looking over his shoulder towards the door while he drove his fingers through his hair to lift his blue dyed tips one last time. Should he roll up his sleeves like Desmond always did? He decided against it, instead he turned and left the bathroom.

“Look at this! He really looks like an adult now!” Shaun sneered, the keys of his car already in his fingers to softly jingle with them. Darim was standing nearby looking up to his father with wide eyes and it was quite difficult to not turn red, especially when Desmond started to tuck on his clothes like a worried mother. “Where is Sef?” Altaїr mumbled quietly after he wasn’t able to spot his youngest right away, but Desmond only gestured towards the living room. "Sleeping." He explained monosyllables before he stepped back a little and nodded with a small grin. If he knew no better, he would claim that he had seen a proud twinkle in Desmond's eyes.

"Good." Altaїr sighed and slipped into the shoes Desmond held out to him eventually. It was fortunate that they had the same shoe size.

"Well then, I guess I should get going now, right?" He grinned and could not even sell the nervous twitching of his mouth as a confident grin, when he finally ruffled through Darim’s dark hair. The little man had his dark brows pulled as closely together as he possibly could and looked almost as critical as his little brother every time he had to look up to their father.

"I like you better in your normal stuff.“ The four-year old boy grumbled and caused the barkeeper to be to laugh for the first time since … well, what felt like a really long time. After all, it really wasn’t like he would hear something like that very often. Grinning he shortly grabbed Darim’s little nose between his index finger and thumb and Darim made a grimace and wiped his hand aside just like he always did when he was a baby.

“Be good.” He finally said and felt almost as if he was about to go on a trip around the world, as he left the apartment. He did not like to leave his boys behind, especially not at night. Darim was not used to sleeping alone, but – Well, now he simply needed to get used to sleeping without his father by his side, it seemed.

When he finally sat in Shaun’s car to drive into his doom he thought about the words he had said to his child a few minutes prior. Darim was a little rascal, that was for sure, but he was also pretty much the best-behaved kid he knew and with that, he was so much different from the rest. When Altaїr was his age he had only mischief and nonsense in his little head and had driven his poor old grandma more than once to the brink of insanity with his behavior. She would probably be not very proud that her grandson – both of her grandsons – were working in a strip club, but at least she would perhaps turn a blind eye on things, considering Altaїr’s situation and would at least be a little proud that he would do something like this for his boys.

Shaun threw him out of the car when they arrived at the _Plan B_ and went straight on to get his stuff from his office, without unnecessary words of farewell. They would probably never get along with each other anyway. A small part of him thought that it was a pity that he and Shaun did not get along, but the rest of him did not care. This time he entered the nightclub through the backdoor and that was why Shaun hadn’t stopped in front of the main entrance but in a smaller alley right next to the building. He certainly had dropped Desmond off or picked him up more than enough times to know where the backdoor was located.

Shaun did not really give the impression, but he was a damn jealous man – that Desmond had told him more than once grinning widely. Even then, when he still worked in the _Bad Weather_ Shaun had always insisted on dropping him off or picking him up or at least that Desmond would give him a call when he left work. And since Desmond was working in the _Plan B_ his jealousy only grew from day to day. Desmond seemed quite pleased by that - and Altaїr wanted rather not know exactly why.

He was about to cross the road to get to the other side where the backdoor of the _Plan B_ was waiting for him when a black BMW drove around the corner behind which Shaun's car had just vanished and almost hit Altaїr if he wouldn’t have jumped back immediately in a moment of absolute agility.

The car was too fast for him to even have the chance of remembering the license plate and what good was it anyway? Cursing he looked after the ridiculously polished car and for a moment he felt like he already knew this very car, but he shrugged it off. “Wanker…” He growled after the driver, even though they couldn’t hear him and even though he doubted that they would give a damn about Altaїr’s opinion.

On the second attempt, he crossed the street without further incident, and after he had knocked on the back door, it took only a few seconds until someone opened it from the inside. He was confronted with a rather familiar face. In front of him stood a man in a black suit and a very serious face. The guy was huge and that was the reason why Altaїr had noticed him in the first place outside the _Plan B_ , because at his son’s kindergarten this very man had always looked like a giant among dwarfs. His skin was too dark as he could pass for a sun worshipper and his face now was much more serious than Altaїr would recall from seeing him with the kids. Again, just like in kindergarten, he had his black hair tied back in a ponytail and the suit he wore was fitted so tightly that it looked as If it was about to burst at the seams if he would make any wrong move.

"You are Darim’s father." The young man in front of him stated with a slight frown. He eyed him up from head to toe with his nearly black eyes and then finally decided to let him pass, after he studied the uniform he was wearing and seemingly came to the conclusion that it would be okay to let him step inside. So his son’s new kindergarten teacher stepped aside as if it were a matter of course that their paths would cross right now and here, but Altaїr looked at him wide-eyed as he entered.

"Mr. Kenway?" _Mr. Kenway_ made a grimace, obviously he did not like to be addressed by his last name and he remembered that his son always spoke only of _Connor_.

"The world is a village." Connor growled and closed the door against the cold. The backdoor led into the staff area of the _Plan B_ and the room he stepped into was lit by plain white neon lamps on the walls all around like it was when he first visited. The loud light drew harsh lines on the man’s face in front of Altaїr, casted shadows on it where they weren’t allowed to be and gave those little scars a spotlight to tell their story.

"Seems like it." Altaїr murmured. He still was torn whether he liked it or not, that the man that was taking care of his precious child at day was also working in a gay strip club once night fell. On the other hand, it was just a job, right? He did not look as if he was about to tear the clothes from his body and loll oily on a pole for some horny strangers in the next few seconds. Even if! Jeez! It should not cost him so much effort to work in this place and it shouldn’t be so difficult for him to leave his prejudice behind! "I never thought to meet you here. Do you work here?"

A stupid question, of course, but in that moment he simply had no idea what else to do and Connor did not seem to take it all too serious anyway – despite his stony expression. He folded his arms in front of his chest and rolled his eyes, but he did not seem to be annoyed with him. "Yes." He sighed. He seemed just as uncomfortable to as Altaїr in this location. "I am here for security. It’s sort of a family thing." He murmured and gave Altaїr no chance to continue to ask further questions when he nodded toward another door.

There were four other doors except for the one leading outside and at each, a brass plate was attached to lead the way for lost and probably oily or half-naked men. Opposite the door to the street there was the locker room, right next to that where the staff toilets, to his right hand side was the door, which lead to the storage. The storage room was the only other room Altaїr had also already seen on his first visit so he would know where to go on his first day if needed to. The last door on his left hand side led to the club itself. It was quite silent here in this area of the nightclub considering the fact that there probably was loud music right behind that single white door.

When he turned to Connor to follow the man, he caught him right as he eyed him up again from head to toe. Something seemed either to disturb him or he was just flabbergasted by Altaїr’s appearance. Was it the uniform? Surreptitiously he looked down at himself as Connor turned to the door. The uniform was clean, freshly washed even! This could not be the reason for Connor’s puzzled looks. Very possibly, he just looked unspeakably silly in it and his family had not wanted to tell him, because they did not want to hurt him. "Mr. Al-Sayf is waiting for you at the bar." Connor muttered and held the door for him.

Seeing this place at night was quite a difference to what it looked like during the day. The neon lamps were off and now only the lights hanging from the ceiling were to light the bar with different, vibrating colors changing every now and then. Music blared loudly from the speakers, which were hidden embedded in the walls or hanging from the ceiling.

It was loud, but not as loud as he originally expected and he could already hear the inappropriate whistling of the guys sitting by the stages. The show was probably already going on. His path, however, led him to the bar where he already saw one of Desmond's colleagues to his amazement. On the other hand, it should not surprise him. They wouldn’t have a novice taking care of the bar all by himself when the club was in full swing, right?

The guy behind the counter was pale, with seemingly slicked back slightly longer blond hair than he or his cousin possessed. He wore the same uniform Altaїr had received from Desmond but his movements lacked finesse - at least it felt that way for Altaїr. When he came closer, he saw the nametag on the man's chest. _Clay_. Would he also get one of these one day? He would probably get it as soon as he got the uniform. As the blonde Clay noticed him he raised one of his slim eyebrows and Altaїr almost stopped dead in his tracks because of that irritated look. Well, he probably looked really like a fucking clown. Nevertheless, he straightened his back and moved closer to the counter. A few men were already sitting on the stools and watched Clay, but he could not make out the blue-eyed Mr. Al-Sayf.

"And what are you wearing?" Sounded a deep voice right behind him. "Shouldn’t you wear your costume for tonight?" For a moment, he did not feel addressed by those words, but eventually he turned around - and regretted it the next moment.

When he turned, he was faced with his nemesis from the grocery store, with the assassin that had once almost struck him with the kindergarten door in the head, with that infamous thief who stole his baby’s _Lucky Charms_. For a moment he thought to mistake that man for this evil guy, but the dark rumble of his voice and the deep scowl in his almost black eyes and the furrowed brows were unmistakable. There he stood with his arms crossed over his silly pinstripe suit and eyed Altaїr up from head to toe before a mocking expression came to his face.

"Now I understand what Kadar meant." He sighed and loosened his arms to shove one of his hands in the right front pocket of his trousers. His gaze was almost pityingly and Altaїr liked that even less than anything ever.

"I'm actually looking for Mr. Al-Sayf." Altaїr growled as he in turn folded his arms, just to feel less small in front of this guy. Perhaps he even stuck out his chin a little bit more.

"Standing right in front of you, boy. Malik Al-Sayf. I own this place. It seems my brother has allowed himself to play you a little bit. I am not looking for new bartender; I'm looking for a new dancer."

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He hated every single customer who came to him that day. He hated their stupid orders. He hated their fucking _small fries_ and their _menus_ and their _special requests_. He hated those damned sticky milkshakes and small salads. Who in their right mind would come to a fast food restaurant to order a salad anyway?! It was quite late already when he came to the conclusion that all of his customers were absolute psychopaths - especially the chicks with their small handbags and their even smaller dogs, which would always ( _always!)_ order a damned small salad with an extra-large chocolate milkshake.

The last guest was gone two minutes ago with a paper bag dripping with grease under his arm and Altaїr was just about to wash up one of the tables and get rid of sticky milkshake remains, as the door to the store opened again. He already heard his colleague Tammy calling over the counter that the restaurant was closed.

"The sign says you are open ‘till eight." A deep rumbling voice sounded from the door and at the same moment Altaїr dove under the table he had just washed in search for coverage. He had not even wasted a second on thinking about it. He just did it.

"That's right, Sir." Tammy replied stubbornly.

"We have seven PM and fifty-seven minutes. You are open three more minutes. "There was another certain very stubborn someone in the hood to battle Tammy if necessary and Altaїr had never felt that stupid ever in his life than at this moment, as he sat under a filthy table to hide from another man. How big was the chance that this cursed bastard would come here of all the fast food restaurants there were in fucking New York City anyway?!

"Well then, what can I do for you, Sir? Unfortunately, the kitchen is already closed as you can see. I can only offer you a drink." Tammy began in her friendliest voice and Altaїr did not need to look at her face to know that she put on her sweetest smile. A smile that was dripping with venom. For a second he almost thought the man would demand a meal only because Tammy said he couldn’t have it and only because he wanted to make trouble.

“Thank you, but I plan on living a few more years." Said the man. "I am actually looking for one of your employees." Altaїr heart was in his pants.

"You want to complain? If one of our staff members molested you in any way or upset you with something they did, I apologize, Sir. Of course I can-“

"Nothing like that." The uninvited guest remained unbending and Altaїr heard the steps of the man moving towards the counter. It was not the sound of Tammy's sneakers on the linoleum, oh no. These shoes sounded _expensive_. They did not sound like the shoes of their normal clientele and for the moment Altaїr was more than grateful for the small partition that made sure that one would not immediately spot him crouching under the table (which underside was covered in layers and layers of already chewed gum). Well, at least he couldn’t sink any deeper. "I only want to speak to him."

"Well, then I am afraid I can do nothing for you, Sir. If it is a private matter, you have to wait until we close."

"Can you at least tell me if he's still here? You know, I’ve not stolen my time." He sounded impatient, but during those few encountered he had already had with that man, he never experienced him not impatient - whatever that meant.

"That I can do, yes. If you tell me whom you’re searching for, Sir."

He wondered if he could disappear through the backdoor without the guy noticing anything about it.

"Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad." He said and, like his brother before him, his pronunciation was perfect and caused Tammy probably just to raise one of her neatly trimmed eyebrows in confusion. She probably needed a moment to refer the sound of that foreign name to him (normally his name sounded more like Altair from her mouth. She was somewhat convinced it was a French name), but eventually she cleared her throat.

"Yes, he’s still here." As Altaїr dared to look over the half-height partition he could see how Tammy glanced discretely at him, then he saw how she walked around the counter to inconspicuously lean against the wall to block the sight of the man. "He's in the kitchen. If you want to wait for him outside, he is done in half an hour.”

For a moment there was silence and Altaїr made himself instantly even smaller under his table, because he was almost sure the guy would pull him at his collar from under the table like a misbehaving puppy any moment now, but then a snarl and: "Alright. Have a nice evening." - Even though it sounded more like a death threat.

"So?" Tammy finally sighed when the door fell shut. She immediately went back to cleaning the counter like nothing had happened. "Will you tell me what this was all about? The guy looks like mafia, Altaїr. What have you done to upset a guy like this? Does it have something to do with the work here?"

As Altaїr crawled out from under the table and threw his rack (which he had desperately clung to during his time in hiding) back into the bucket, he felt like the biggest loser who had ever lived. "No ... ah ... Not really." He sighed. "Well … I mean. I may or may not have destroyed his car."


	5. just a scratch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize in advance for my nasty time jumps >3

"Malik." Kadar's voice grew louder, but it seemed that he was only meeting deaf ears. "Malik." He tried again. He did not want to yell unnecessary, but his brother seemed to ignore him with a passion that no mortal man could comprehend. The younger of the Al-Sayf brothers began to feel a little bit stupid the longer he needed to wait for a reaction of his brother. They stood in a rather small alleyway not far from the _Plan B_ , the strip club his brother owned, and the night had swallowed New York already hours ago. In fact the sun was about to rise again that was how late it really was already, while Kadar Al-Sayf had the questionable luck of watching his brother (the _reasonable_ brother) dancing around his car as if he was about to summon the gods of rain so they would grant them a nice little shower.

It was cold. Of course, it was, after all it was mid-October and Kadar had decided against wearing a coat over his suit. Stupid idea. His brother on the other hand had made a much wiser decision. Well, he guessed, that was why Malik was the reasonable brother and why he – Kadar Al-Sayf - wasn’t. Malik always knew exactly what he was doing. He always had the situation under control. His day was strictly planned out in detail and scheduled and he did not have time for any distraction whatsoever.

"Malik would you stop it already?" Kadar moaned finally, when his brother was about to take another round (the sixth if he had not miscounted) around his car exhilarated like a chicken on LSD so he could examine his beloved car from every possible (or impossible) angle. It was quite rare to see his brother agitated like that. The last time he had been like that (as far as Kadar would know it anyway) was when his little son Tazim had been thrown off the swing on the playground. Of course, Malik hadn't been there. He had had work to do. For things like that his little son had a nanny, but when he had learned about the incident that evening it cost Kadar a lot of persuasive power so his brother would not threat the parents of the culprit with death.

"Stop?" Malik finally exploded and his deep voice vibrated from the stonewalls of the buildings around them. "My car is a wreck, Kadar!"

The younger Al-Sayf boy almost felt something like a malicious joy – but as said only almost, because his mother had once taught him that a feeling like that was not nice to have at all and that it was not okay to make fun of other people. On the other hand, his mother always taught him such lessons after he caught her laughing her ass of whenever his father had hurt himself in any way. Malik kind of got what he deserved and Kadar found it funny (only a little, teeny-tiny bit) how he threw a tantrum because of what had happened to his car, after he hadn’t really cared for Kadar's exploded car before.

This poor, poor lunatic.

It was quite nice to see how a man like Malik Al-fucking-Sayf could lose his head like that and until now only very few people managed to get him that far at all. "It's but a scratch, Malik." The younger brother replied and at the same time, he had a really hard time not to grin or laugh but to keep up his serious face. This very car was like the Holy Grail for Malik, that Kadar knew pretty well and no one was supposed to joke about a _scratch_ in the perfect polished black color. Oh no.

"A _scratch_?!" _Well, here we go again_ , Kadar thought instantly. "Are you fucking kidding me, Kadar?" Malik hissed at him, but Kadar only raised one of his trimmed brows and crossed the arms in front of his chest, before he himself took a turn around his brother's precious car and crouched down next to the door on the driver's seat of the BMW. Under Malik's watchful eyes he slowly brushed, his thumb over the scratch that presumable was left by some kind of key, which someone had driven over the door. The scratch was at the most 4 to 6 inches long (even though in Malik's eyes the scratch probably circled around the whole vehicle) and only about 0.04 inches deep. Nothing too bad. Nothing what a good garage couldn’t repair easily in a few minutes.

"Yapp. That is indeed a scratch, Malik. Not pretty, but not the end of the world either." He sighed quietly when he stood up again. Malik on the other hand was foaming with rage and this rage finally found a new target in his little brother, much to the surprise of said younger brother.

"That’s your fault." Malik decided mercilessly, but Kadar raised his hands in defiance and took a step back. "Whoa there! Why exactly is it my fault now that someone has scratched your car?" The younger one moaned.

"Because, Kadar, the guy you fucked with did this!" The Syrian man hissed. Malik was quite a menacing man and that he was not only for complete strangers. Even Kadar knew that it was not wise to fuck with someone like Malik in anyway, although Kadar thought himself safe until now, for his brother would never harm his family. The family always came first for Malik, it came even before his animalistic rage, yet it would not be wise for him to provoke him any further.

"You mean Altaїr? Desmond's cousin? What did you do to him to cause him to go on a rampage against your beautiful car?" His brother not only was a menacing guy, he also was a real oaf and always acted like a bull in the china shop. Malik had never been good in considering other people's feelings, mainly because they had been taught from an early age on that emotions were a sign of weakness – a weakness they had not the luxury to have. So he could imagine vividly what had happened between Malik and Altaїr.

He almost felt sorry for the guy.

"I just told him that we are not searching for another bartender but for a dancer. Then he lost his temper and hit the road like an angry boiling hen." Malik growled like always with those big gestures when he was angry, before he crossed his arms once more, but the way he did that reminded Kadar a lot on a stubborn child, which was not ready to confess to its guilt. That was an even more rare sight Malik now provided for his brother and something he would never allow himself to show whenever he would be with other people than his younger brother.

Kadar knew that this was not all Malik had done to the poor guy and he was not stupid enough to believe him, yet he wouldn’t grill him any further, because he wouldn’t get a decent answer out of him anyway. "So, what are you going to do now?" Kadar then asked and stepped around the car again. For a moment, he studied the large hole in the rear window of Malik's car. The glass shards were scattered all over the asphalt of the street and the large brick that caused this lay seemingly innocent on the backseat (accompanied by a lot more glass shards).

"What do you think I am going to do? I'll get him of course."

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It had been one of his more glorious ideas, which caused Altaїr to let out his rage on Malik's car and right after he had done the damage he had started to regret it. It was not as if he did not know what had come over him, oh no, that he knew pretty well. It was this untamed rage, which grabbed him and drove him to go cause havoc. That did not make anything better for him now, surely, but at least he was able to explain his fury if anyone would care to ask.

In that moment when Malik Al-Sayf, the owner of the _Plan B_ , told him that he had been fucked with by his younger brother Kadar, Altaїr could hardly hold himself back, so he wouldn’t punch this guy right in his fucking face. He would’ve loved to beat his stupid grin from his visage. Of course, Malik had recognized him and he had probably found it extremely funny to humiliate him like that. It really was no surprise to him now that all the other guys (well Connor and this _Clay_ -guy at least) looked at him like he was a clown for wearing Desmond's uniform and that was exactly how he felt when he walked shivering through the streets of New York. He felt like the biggest loser ever. Malik's car had been only an innocent victim, which accidentally crossed his path.

Even right in that moment when he had accidently drawn the keys to Desmond's flat over the coat of the black BMW, he had known that he was fucked. It had been an accident! He had grabbed the keys from his pocket to have something to occupy his hand with and brushed the side of the car! He had recognized Malik's car almost instantly, because not only this very car nearly hit him this very evening, but also because he had recognized it as the car which he had spotted parking near his son's kindergarten a few weeks ago.

The world was a village, yes, it really was. Basically it was not even Malik's fault he felt so humiliated. It had been his brother who had been fucking with Altaїr and it had been Desmond who had passed him the wrong information. Yet he couldn’t help but lash about on absolutely everything that came his way. That had not stopped at Malik's car, _oh no_.

For a little while, Altaїr simply strayed through the lively streets of the nightly New York still wearing this damned uniform his cousin gave to him and he only wanted to rip it off of his body and shred it with his bare hands. He felt like he was part of a play when he finally returned to Desmond. It seemed as if they had all worked together against him. They were probably laughing their asses off right now. Did Desmond know what would happen to him at the _Plan B_?

He did not believe that his cousin would be capable of such perfidy and yet… He did not want to think about it. He grew up with Desmond after all. He had been always like a big brother to Altaїr. Never he would betray him like that, right? He also did not want to think about the fact that his son's kindergarten teacher had seen him in the _Plan B_ and witnessed all that had happened between him and Mr. Al-Sayf or about what major coincidence it was that their paths would cross there right on that very evening.

After all this Mr. Al-Sayf – _Malik_ – had a son in this very kindergarten as well, so he knew about Connor's day-job. Under different circumstances, he would wonder what this was all about.

Still foaming with rage, he climbed up the stairs to the floor on which Desmond was living. Of course he had a key (same key he scratched Malik’s car with), but he knocked anyway. No, he _pounded_ on the door more than he would knock and he wasted no glance at the clock. He did not care how late it might be. He did not care that his children were probably already sleeping. He pounded his fist against the door as long as it took until he finally heard footsteps hurrying for the door and Shaun finally opened.

"Altaїr, what the hell-" The brit exclaimed as soon as he flung the door open far enough to recognize Altaїr but the half Syrian male interrupted him in pushing the door wide open before he burst inside the apartment.

Except for the sound of the television in the living room that was still on it was silent in the apartment, but that changed once Altaїr stomped towards the source of the noise, still furious. Darim stretched his head tiredly and looked as if he just fell asleep on the couch right next to Desmond while watching some stupid cartoon, which was still on right now. His cousin made no move at all; he only looked quizzically at him.

"What happened? Why are you already back?" His cousin asked immediately alerted, but Altaїr stalked to Sef's cradle and took the little man out of his soft, warm nest not caring about whether he woke him up.

Startled by the sudden abduction Sef started to whine immediately, but he did not care (and that was something, which would startle _him_ all the more under normal circumstances). "Altaїr!" Desmond tried again and rose from the couch, but only one look of his younger cousin was enough to let Desmond stop dead in his tracks. If only he could, he would spit fire. He was aware that Darim looked at him confused with his big blue eyes and he noticed how his little one pressed himself deeper into the sofa cushions, as if to escape the situation.

"What happened?!" Altaїr snapped. "I bet you had a ripping good time, right? I bet you laughed your asses off about the silly-silly Altaїr! Must have been quite funny to dress me up like a clown to let me run into my doom!"

"I don't understand what you mean!" Desmond exclaimed wringing his hands and Sef's little whining slowly became a faint cry. "What happened? Why are you back?"

"Oh don’t you dare acting like you did not know anything, Desmond! You knew perfectly well that they did not want me as a bartender!" He tried to cradle Sef so he would calm down, even if he did it much coarser than he would normally and even though he held his little one maybe a bit too tight.

"What do you mean they do not want you as a bartender? You've received a contract from Malik!" Altaїr snorted. Normally, it calmed him down quite fast if he could hold his baby boy in his arms, but now his crying only made things worse. It gnawed on his nerves and he just wanted to lie him down again and ran as far as he could without ever looking back. If he wouldn’t have the boys, then he would not be in this position right now. He would probably visit some dance academy and would come closer to his great goal with very day; instead, his days were filled with baby bottles and whining and soiled diapers!

"Hey now calm down ..." Shaun, who was smart enough that he had stopped at a safe distance to the angry father, muttered. "Could you please just tell us what happened?"

"What happened? They fucked me, that’s what happened!" He yelled. "They wanted me to be a stripper, that’s what happened! I made a complete fool out of myself today wearing Desmond's clothes!"

Darim's eyes widened flabbergasted because of his father cursing so much. It was fortunate that his son (hopefully) did not know what a stripper was yet. Desmond on the other hand seemed just as startled by this outburst as Darim was. "What do you mean they wanted you as a stripper? That is not what was arranged! What does your contract say?"

Well. The contract. Suddenly Altaїr felt even more stupid than he did already anyway. "Dunno!"

"What do you mean _dunno?"_ Shaun groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Do not say you have not read it!" Desmond sighed.

"And why should I?! How was I supposed to know, that this bastard wants to fuck with me?" This was of course a legitimate question. How had he been supposed to assume that something like this would happen, but then again he already knew what was coming next and that he earned the taunt.

Shaun ran his hand over his face and shook his head slightly again. This man did not need to have children of his own to act and appear like a disappointed father. And Desmond was right, Shaun Hastings reminded him very much on his uncle William _"Bill"_ Miles. "This cannot be true." He moaned softly. "How stupid are you really? You're twenty-two years old, Altaїr! Every child knows that you _read_ a contract before signing it!"

Yes, he was right. Altaїr knew that he was right and that he had once again proved that he was not mature enough to pass as an adult. He was not mature enough to care for two children because he couldn’t even care for himself. He was not even able to sign a fucking contract! He could’ve sold himself as a prostitute to that guy without even noticing it! He wanted to yell at Shaun and Desmond and let his anger out on them or on Darim. He wanted to shake Sef until he would stop crying, but then he simply sat down on the carpet and grabbed his baby boy tighter, before he nuzzled his nose into the crook of Sef's neck and listened how his crying finally stopped.

"I am so fucking stupid." Altaїr then finally hiccupped. He could do nothing right it seemed. After he had lost his grandma his whole life had went downhill pretty much. He had been adopted into the Miles family and though it had been a loving home and even though they had treated him like their own child and even though he never lacked anything a child could wish for he somehow managed to ruin everything after Desmond moved to New York, because he constantly fought with Bill over nothing at all. Then another family took him under their wings and again he had a good life but again he managed to ruin everything! He fell in love with that beautiful girl and managed to impregnate her right away to ruin both of their lives immediately! He really, really could do nothing right. And he was so tired of trying and working his ass off and then falling right onto his face again and again and again.

Altaїr was no man who would cry easily – especially not in front of his kids – but since the birth of his youngest child his crying-rate had grown immensely. When he did cry he would always cry for the very same reasons; He always felt like shit and he always was oh so desperate. But now he felt humiliated more than ever before in his life. He was not only angry that this Al-Sayf guy had played him, he was furious that he himself had allowed it! Even if he would want to go back to the _Plan B_ to work as a stripper, he could never bring himself to crawl back there again. He knew that he was a loser, that he was dumb and naïve and that he was no good and that his children deserved something (someone) better than him as their father, but he couldn’t handle being laughed at by those guys. He couldn’t handle being shoved face down in the dirt again and again.

It was already enough that he knew all those things about himself.

"You can't dwell on this forever." Desmond said the next morning when they sat at the table. Shaun hid behind his newspapers like the old man he was while Desmond fed Sef. Darim was munching on his cornflakes (the _real Lucky Charms,_ because Desmond could afford them). Only Altaїr couldn’t bring himself to eat. He hated cornflakes with milk. He liked them crispy without anything, yet he had poured milk in his bowl while Desmond had only raised one of his dark brows at this behavior. He had no clue why he did it, but now his cornflakes were all squishy and he detested that. Even if he would want to, he couldn’t bring himself to eat that. He knew that this was not the end of the world. His cousin would throw them away and give him something different to eat, but he did not like that. It was his own fault after all. Like everything was this his own fault.

He had stayed the night on the couch with Darim in his arm, who could barely stand seeing his father so miserable. Darim had not asked what being a stripper really meant, he had only scolded him for cursing so much when they had been finally alone.

He felt horrible for letting his children see him like that.

He was their father and thus he needed to be strong and brave. He couldn’t just cry like a little baby.

"I don’t dwell on anything." He murmured when he finally tried to bring the spoon to his lips, even though he already felt sick to the stomach. Yesterday's events still held him tightly in its grip. He still had this contract, which said he was to work at the _Plan B_. Of course Malik Al-Sayf could just fire him or he could just quit (which he somewhat did while he yelled at the guy in the middle of the bar). He shouldn’t worry about this guy anymore and just forget about the incident (but his attack on Malik's car still gnawed on him). He was quite sure he was going to get in trouble for the things he had done last night and that made it all the more worse.

"Yes you do." Desmond then sighed. "You'll find another job."

Yes, that he would, but not one that was so well paid. Perhaps he should just do it, right? Perhaps he should just go back to the _Plan B_ today, apologize for everything and do it. He liked dancing. No, he _loved_ dancing. Now he had the chance of dancing once again – only that he would need to loll on a pole for horny guys and rip off his clothes. He couldn't do it. What if someone would recognize him and call social services? What if the authorities would learn about his job and take the children away from him?

"You're right." Altaїr sighed. However, today he would need to work at this fucking Fast-food restaurant again. He would come home stinking like grease and burgers and when he would get home he would start searching again for the horrible smell in his flat to no avail. He would go crazy like that.

"Altaїr." Desmond said with a sigh. "What?" He knew exactly _what_. He and his cousin knew each other to well to not know _what_. "What did you do last night after you left the club?" Oh shit. Altaїr was not a good liar, at least not when it came to adults. "Nothing." He replied anyway with a scowl and Desmond kicked him underneath the table with his naked foot against the shin. "Nothing!" He repeated again and pulled his leg up to rub over his shin.

"Then why did Malik call me in the middle of the night like three times?"

"Maybe he's angry with you?"

"Why should he?"

"Because you told me to apply."

"Altaїr-"

"Darim are you finished yet? We need to get going buddy. We're already late." He then growled and rose from the table.

"You did not even eat a thing, Daddy!" The four-year-old boy replied with worry lines all over his forehead. It was not unusual that Altaїr would not eat before leaving the house but mainly because he couldn’t afford it. All his money went straight into the rent and his children.

"I'm good. Now go and put your shoes on."

"It's okay, Shaun can drop him off on his way to the Uni." Desmond then tried, but Altaїr shooed his son to put on his shoes anyway. "We're good." He growled. At least he wanted to drop his son off himself. That was the least he could do.

"Altaїr-" Desmond tried again, when Altaїr bent down to kiss Sef on the forehead and fled the kitchen. He did not know what came over him, but he did not want to hear anything else about this Malik-guy or the _Plan B_ or last night in general. He only wanted to flee his cousin's apartment, though he always felt safe in here. Now he felt more like he did back when he was still living with Desmond's parents. Bill never liked that he wanted to be a dancer; he wanted him to study something like law or business management or something _proper_ like that. He had been the next big disappointment for Bill after Desmond, who went to go be a barkeeper. And bill always let him feel exactly like that. Living with them he had always felt like a disappointment, even though Desmond’s mother had tried to make him feel loved as good as she could. This was how he felt now. When Desmond was looking at him out of his dark brown eyes he felt as if he was looking straight into the eyes of Bill Miles again, disappointment written all over his face.

He couldn’t blame him.

He was a big, big disappointment after all. Sure, his parents and his grandparents would feel the very same way if they could see him right now.

He fled the apartment with Darim at his hand just when Desmond was about to stop him again and let the door fall shut behind him a little louder than necessary. On his way to Darims kindergarten, he needed to face his son's questions about why he was angry with his _Uncle_ Desmond. He tried to avoid giving him an earnest answer. It was not fair, he knew that and Darim's face told him so too, but he could simply not say him what was really going on. Not yet at least.

His day did not get any better after this. Oh no. the rest of the day he spent working in this damned fast food hellhole. The whole day he only wanted to grab his children and go home, but when the restaurant finally closed, he was faced with another problem.

"What do you mean you destroyed his car?" Tammy asked with huge eyes, but Altaїr only shrugged his shoulders and ruffled through his hair. He dared a small glance out of the large glass window to see if Malik was still there. He couldn’t see him, but he was probably waiting anyway. Malik surely was no one to go without having dealt with a problem.

"It’s a long story." Altaїr sighed. "Don’t worry, I'll take care of this, but now I need to go." He would not say _I need to get my children_ , because no one in this restaurant knew that he was a father and it should stay this way for all he cared. Most employers did not like to see if one already has kids this early in life.

Tammy made a face, but then sighed. She obviously did not like being left in the dark about really anything no matter if it was her concern or not. "Okay, but you should really use the backdoor then. At least if you want to avoid meeting that guy." Altaїr nodded shortly before he hurried through the restaurant and avoided being seen through the windows as best he could. When he was back in the safety of the kitchen area, he hung his purple hat on one of the small hooks and grabbed his belongings to shove them back into the pockets of his pants. He heard how Tammy followed him and when he put on his worn out jacket she crossed her arms with a worried face. "Just be careful, alright? This guy really looks like trouble." If he wouldn’t know, better he would think Tammy wanted to flirt with him.

He nodded again. "Yeah thanks." He said, but he felt already a little nauseas even thinking about stepping outside this damned door into the dark alleyway.

It was already pitch black outside when he left the restaurant due to the time of day and the season. It was quite cold and the air tasted almost like it was going to snow. Oh well, it would hardly surprise him. Altaїr liked snow very much, but not under his current circumstances, because now snow would mean that his children would probably freeze to death in his apartment. The door fell shut behind him and he knew that Tammy would probably lock the backdoor now that he was gone, for she would go through the front door when she was finished. He could only hope that Malik would wait for him in front of the restaurant. A short glance to the display of his phone told him that he had in fact missed nine calls from Desmond and not only seven like he originally thought and for a short moment he thought about leaving the kids with his cousin tonight. At least they would have warm beds at Desmond's place. But no, he could not do that. He could not simply leave them hanging in the air like this. Darim would not understand why his father would not come to pick them up even though sleeping at Desmond's place always was a little adventure. He would break his little heart if he would leave him. His stomach was grumbling when he slowly crept though the narrow alley. Of course, since he hadn’t eaten a thing toady.

He could already see his breath forming little white clouds in front of his face, while he hurried through the small path between the fast food restaurant and the next-door building (some second-hand-shop Altaїr sometimes visited to see if he could get something new for the little ones to wear). His jacket barely was any protection against the cold weather and into the bargain, it began to drizzle again.

"So you know I could call the cops on you, right?" The dark voice of Malik Al-Sayf vibrated right when Altaїr left the alley. He almost stumbled backwards or died of a heart attack right then and there, but since his body couldn't decide on what to do, so fast he simply made probably the weirdest startled grimace in history and jumped back. Malik looked at him like an angry owl ready to rip him to shreds, when he slowly moved towards him. It seemed he had waited for him just around the corner of the restaurant, knowing that he had witnessed Malik's encounter with Tammy somehow.

"I don’t know what you are talking about." Altaїr then growled, though it did cost him a lot of effort to not look guilty. He did so probably anyway. He really was no good when it came to lying.

"Oh I think you know exactly what I am talking about." Malik stated and stopped only a few feet away from Altaїr, his right hand in the front pocket of his dress pants. Today the suit he wore was black as the night surrounding and he wore a black coat leisurely draped over his broad shoulders. He was missing sunglasses and a cigarette, Altaїr thought to himself, but Tammy was right: Malik really did look like a Mafioso. His dark taint and jet-black hair and beard only increased the impression that he was a guy no one would want to fuck with.

His dark, almost black eyes drilled holes in Altaїr's face when he eyed him up in the light of one single streetlamp about 2.1 yards away from them. Suddenly he felt really ridiculous (like more than normally) in his purple uniform. "Purple really isn’t your color, boy." The man then said and straightened his posture. It was only then, that Altaїr noticed that he was a little bit taller than Mr. Al-Sayf, even if it were only a few inches. If he wouldn’t always have such a hunched down posture, he would probably over tower Malik a little bit. Perhaps that was why the guy straightened his spine like that. "I'm of course talking about my car. I bet the scratch did not appear out of the blue."

 _The scratch_ , Altaїr thought horrified. _Really? He is angry because of the scratch? What about the fucking hole in his rear window?!_ "And why do you assume that it was me?"

"Because no one else would be so fucking stupid to mess with _my_ car. I always park in that alley for years now and never has something like that happened. And you, boy, had all the right reasons to be angry and leave it out on my car."

"I don’t even know what car you're driving." Altaїr growled and the lie was probably plastered right onto his face.

"Sure you do." Malik replied and he sounded a lot more neutral than before in the restaurant. "You’ve seen my car before parking by the kindergarten."

"There are lots of cars like yours."

"No there aren’t, boy." _Now_ he sounded offended. Seemed as if he had pulled a nerve. "Listen I _know_ it was you. Connor has seen you walking right into the direction of my car when he was outside. I already called Desmond because of it and it seems that you didn’t go to his place right away, am I wrong?"

"You deserved it!" He then blurted. Of course, he could say that the scratch on the driver's door had been an accident – which it was – but that wouldn’t make it any better and the brick he used to destroy the rear window had been not that much of an accident.

Suddenly the man in front of him was looking furious again. "And why is it that I deserved this vandalism?" He exclaimed, still with his right hand in his front pocket.

"Because-" Altaїr began. Yes, why exactly did he deserve it? It had been Kadar who fucked him. "Because you treated me like an idiot! You humiliated me in front of those people! Just because you have money and can buy such expensive cars it doesn’t mean you're the better person!"

"I've never said that I'm a better person!" Malik hissed, his brows furrowed almost into a tight line, his teeth bared at him – a row of perfect white pearls glistening in the darkness.

"You stole my son's _Lucky Charms_!"

"What _Lucky Charms_?!"

"The one from the shop! You’ve stolen them!"

"I've grabbed them first you fucking moron! _You_ wanted to steal them from _me_!"

"As if you would’ve needed them so desperately! I bet you can buy the whole fucking _Lucky Charms_ factory if you wanted to!"

"They were for my son! He loves them and he was grumpy!"

"Yeah? I would be too with a father like you! Bet he was grumpy because his father would leave him behind crying!"

"I've never left him behind crying!"

"Yeah you did! You did when you almost assassinated my baby!"

"I've never almost assassinated any baby!"

"You almost hit him with the fucking kindergarten door!"

"Oh is that so? Then perhaps this happened because I was on the flight from my _crying child_!"

"Like I said: No wonder he's grumpy with you! No matter how many packages of _Lucky Charms_ you'll buy it won't help you with that!"

"And you are the father of the year, right? Then where the fuck are you're precious children now?"

"You're ridiculous!"

"Oh now I am ridiculous? Excuse me, but I am not the one working in a fucking smelly fast food restaurant under minimum wage and can't feed my children because I was stupid enough to turn down a well-paid job!"

"A well paid job as a fucking stripper!"

"So what?"

Yes, so what? It wasn’t like those men working for Malik would sell their bodies. It wasn’t that bad of a job. He knew that. They both knew that. That made it even worse. "You know what? Go buy a new car and fuck yourself!" He then hissed when he walked passed Malik. His blood was boiling in his veins. He was hungry and that did not really make anything better in that moment.

"So is that your last word? I guess I should call the cops then and inform them about what you’ve done. Bet your kids are really proud of their vandalizing father when he sits in jail." He stopped, even if he did not want to stop. Malik had all the right in the world to do that. He had committed a crime and thus he needed to pay the price for it.

"Then do what you think you have to do." Altaїr grumbled when he continued his way. He just wanted to vanish into thin air. He only made things worse with his behavior. Perhaps he really should leave his kids with Desmond and Shaun and just run. Or better, he should hang himself somewhere or jump into the Hudson River. Only faintly he heard the steps of Malik behind him, following him. "You know, I am not a heartless bastard, boy." He then said and Altaїr couldn’t help but snort on this. "I am ready to leave the police out of this, but only if you grow yourself some balls and pay your debts."

And what if that guy really was a Mafioso? He sounded a lot like one judging by Altaїr’s very thorough research (which included movies like _the godfather_ or _Scarface)_. “What do you mean?” He finally turned around to face the man. Malik’s face was neutral once again. He looked very much like this was a situation, which he already knew well – probably he did.

“I mean that you will work for me. Don’t get me wrong: You’ll work like agreed as a stripper-“ Altaїr was about to tell him that this hadn’t been agreed on at all, but Malik raised his hand to shush him. “Even though my stupid brother tricked you with that, it was fixated in the contract you signed. It’s not my fault if you haven’t read the bloody thing. _But_ you will also work outside the _Plan B_ for me.”

“And what does that contain?” Altaїr then asked and crossed his arms. It was an enigma to him why Malik was willing to offer him not only the job Altaїr turned down, but yet another one.

“Just little errands and stuff like this. Things I don’t have the time to do. Perhaps some private shows – not for me of course. Oh and of course you will get paid for those things.”

“And how does that works with paying my debts?” He sighed.

“Well you can’t pay your debts when you don’t have a work, right? So I will pay you, but for the extra jobs I will keep my share until you’ll have paid your debts with me.”

Perhaps he really was no heartless bastard and yet: “Why should you do that for me? Why won’t you just go to the police?”

Malik’s face told him that his answer was going to be a lie and Altaїr was sure that he let him notice that on purpose. Malik sure was a man with a really good poker face, so letting him see that he was going to lie to him was nothing he would do unintended. “Well I am a father too.” He stated. “Other than that I see it as an investment.”

“In me? Why should anyone invest in me?”

“Why should anyone invest in anything? Let’s just say I want to see if you are more than just some idiot. Other than that, I still owe Desmond a favor. So you can thank your cousin for that.” Malik then replied and pulled his right hand from his pocket. To Altaїr’s great surprise, he held his hand out for him to take, but Altaїr hesitated.

It sounded just too good to be true. “I won’t prostitute myself. I am not gay, you know?”

“Figured.” Malik snorted. “Deal?”

Well, what other choice did he really have? It was either that or the police and he could not involve the police. No, never. He could not have his children see their father in handcuffs. He could not have any stain on his vest. He was already under the watchful eyes of social services if only because he was a single dad. There was no way he could do anything to endanger his custody on his kids. But wouldn’t he endanger that by accepting Malik’s offer?

When Altaїr finally extended his right hand and touched Malik’s to give it a small shake, he felt like he was selling his soul to the devil.


	6. the one with the opossum

The old radio which lovely old Mrs. Fitzgerald sponsored him roared and crackled every time he got too close to it, but if he stayed just far enough away (about five feet), it worked actually quite good for its age. Of course, the transistor radio of the poor old lady was not exactly the newest model either – just like its former owner - and after the antenna had been broken off presumably twenty years ago, Altaїr had to get used to the fact that the bloody thing could only receive one single station. That was why folk music was blaring trough his flat whenever he turned the thing on. Well, it was better than nothing and at least he now knew the lyrics of _Where have all the flowers gone_ by heart, while Darim found joy every time _If I had a hammer_ was played on the radio so, he could sing along like there was no tomorrow. The truth was, whenever Altaїr was alone and that song was being played, he could not resist the urge to follow his son's example to sing along even when Darim was not around to support him overenthusiastically.

On this day, however, he was not alone in his little, little flat. It was Saturday and his little one was playing in the living room with the new timber truck Shaun had recently given him - and of course with his little baby brother. Darim loved to watch his younger sibling. He liked the feeling of being needed and to take responsibility for the baby. It was not hard to figure out for Altaїr where Darim was, after he heard his voice blaring from the living room, now that this darn song and the deep voice from the radio animated him to sing along once more (other than this it was quite hard to lose a child – even a child so little – in this small flat). While his son sang _"If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning, I'd hammer in the evening, all over this country"_ , Altaїr turned the whole apartment upside down once again.

Even that had become a habit by now. He no longer knew how many times he had already crawled on all fours on the floor of his new apartment to find the source of that horrible stench that plagued him. By now, he had even discovered that the smell was the reason why the previous tenants had moved out in the first place and not because the infamous Mr. Alfonso had driven them crazy how he had first suspected.

Mrs. Fitzgerald had become a very valuable source of information for him by now. For example, it was because of her that Altaїr knew Mr. Alfonso's patterns and habits and knew when the guy was not around so he could then run freely through the building or get rid of his trash without being harassed. However, just like he had suspected he now knew that it had been a young couple with great interest in esoteric, which had been previously living in his apartment – how Mrs. Fitzgerald had told him. The old lady had been quite certain that said couple liked to _smoke_ a lot in this very flat. It was quite hard to stop the cute old lady whenever she was engaged in a conversation and thus their conversation about the previous tenants quickly moved to her own memories of her youth as a young (and allegedly) beautiful woman – memories which centered a lot around her experiences during Woodstock. But all in all, the old lady had become a valuable ally, which Altaїr wouldn’t want to miss in the near future.

Even though he still did not know where she was always disappearing to so early in the morning, dressed in her raincoat.

At least his little one had fun while his father crawled through the apartment like an idiot. He used the last hour to turn the kitchen upside down, wash out all the cupboards and tear the windows open for fresh air. By now, he was pretty sure that the stench was not coming from the kitchen at all, so he was now moving on and headed for the bathroom, even though he was not sure anymore how much he could trust his nose to localize the source of the stench.

His mission guided him across the small hallway of what was called his apartment, so he ultimately had to pass the door to the living room and could have glance at his kids, which still sat where he left them on the carpet in the middle of the room. Well, at least they did not sit directly on the filthy carpet, but on the soft and colorful rug that Desmond had recently brought over. Altaїr hated nothing with greater passion than accepting gifts from his cousin. He knew very clearly that Desmond did not mean to taunt him by giving him or his kids' stuff and that he only meant well, but every time he did, he left Altaїr with the impression that he left more and more of his pride behind when accepting his kindness. On the other hand, his boys shouldn’t need to suffer because of their father's false pride, especially when Altaїr saw what a good time his boys had when they were at Desmond's place. At Desmond's place they at least had their own gaming area with a crap load of toys their father could not afford – even if he knew that Desmond tried to not spoil the kids too much, just because he knew perfectly well how Altaїr felt about all this.

Sometimes he wondered how Darim thought about all that, but the little guy never said anything and that made it all the more worse for his father. He probably envied the other children in kindergarten for their toys, but if he did, he did not say anything - probably because he wanted to spare his father the answer to his prayers. It would break his heart if he could not give his son what wished for.

The look on Darim's face every time they would pass a toy store on their way home from Desmond was already too much for him to bear. Yet he considered himself lucky that Darim would not throw a temper tantrum whenever he wanted to have anything – but he almost wished he would. He hated Darim's silent acceptance of the situation and that he never asked for anything because he knew his father couldn’t afford the things he maybe wanted.

For a moment he stopped at the door to the living room and watched how Sef tried to grab Darim's toy and almost lost his pacifier during the process caused by his excitement, but Darim took care of this situation very well – even if he hadn’t been exactly thrilled when his mother had told him he would have a little brother. Now this seemed as if it was something from another life, but back then everything had seemed much easier with Maria by his side.

When he finally arrived in the bathroom there was nothing waiting for him except a leaky faucet and a moldy showerhead. Again, the smell was present, although not quite as strong as in the rest of the apartment - or was it just him and had he become just too much accustomed to the phenomenon? The small ventilation shaft above the bathtub caught his eye - one of the few places where he had not yet searched for the source of the stench.

He shot another glance over his shoulder and into the hall and listened, but apart from the folk music and the voice of his son was nothing to be heard and there was no one who could stop him from a potentially stupid action. Darim would not be excited to watch as his father climbed onto the rim of the bathtub. Oh no. Nevertheless, he did it to get closer to the ventilation shaft.

It was only a narrow brass grille, just a few centimeters below the ceiling, secured by four screws. The grille was almost completely impermeable by all the dust that had settled on the tight weave of the grid like a fur. Well, at least it was no mold. Altaїr rose again, after he got down to get a nail file from the edge of the sink, which was so pointy that he always watched out that Darim wouldn't get the bloody thing and hurt himself. With that, he shot back up, close to the shaft and started to loosen the screws with the side of the tip of the nail file. They were not that tight, so it took him only a few seconds until he had loosened all four screws, and could get rid of the grid.

Altaїr did not know what he had expected at the start of this mission, perhaps he expected something like a dismembered corpse (which would still fit this building anyway) or with a toxic fungus, which ran through the entire building and would make zombies out of them all sooner or later. However, behind the dusty grille awaited him even more dust in the narrow shaft. Dust. Only dust, nothing else. Pretty sobering.

With a sigh and a final look into the shaft, he put the grid back on and wanted to tighten the screws again, just when the doorbell rang and startled him so much he almost fell from the rim of the tub (and that, folks, was the reason he was not allowed to climb on the rim of the bathtub without supervision). Now, to say the doorbell would _ring_ was quite over exaggerated actually. It was more a hoarse croak and then the sound died piteously. It was not Desmond, that he knew for sure, because first of all, Desmond had a key to the apartment and second of all, he knew that the bell was not working properly and would therefore otherwise knock. The latter was true for the old Mrs. Fitzgerald as well and Mr. Alfonso pounded his meaty fists against the door anyway rather than to push the small button with his sausage fingers.

A _stranger_ – that, he could sniff like a bloodhound on the hunt for an unsuspecting deer.

On the other hand, you probably did not have to be _Miss Marple_ to deduce something like that. "Daddy!" Darim yelled from the living room. "There is someone at the door!"

"I know, buddy." Altaїr sighed when he slowly climbed from the tub's edge and made his way to the door, so that the unknown visitor would not have to wait any longer. On his way to the door, he passed the new-old mirror, which he had also received from the old lady and which had found a place in the hallway. He was pretty sure that this bloody thing was cursed, but so far, the mirror behaved still pretty decent. No ghosts for now.

Here at home he wore only the worst clothes he owned (and by the state of his nonexistent wardrobe, this was already saying a lot). There were stains of dried paint and oil on his gray shirt and his pants were at the very least holey in more than one place (so very holey in fact that it could never be seen as a product of the latest used-look fashion). Even in his blue hair, tips hung a little dust, his hands were rough, and dry from the chemicals, with which he had cleaned the kitchen beforehand.

A last look at his socks revealed, that he very urgently needed new ones. Not only he was wearing a blue and a red sock, they also had more holes than his jeans. Well he should probably put on shoes before he would open the door, but then again whoever stood on the other side of the door wanted something from him and thus needed to live with what he was about to see. After all, it was weekend and he was allowed to walk around in his home, as he wanted - and when he wanted to walk around with holey socks, then he would just do that too.

So he straightened his spine, pushed up his chin, and marched towards the door. Of course, he had a peephole, but he saw no reason in it to use it in this situation - and besides the bloody thing was anyway smudged with something from the other side, so at best he would only detect some ghostly scheme in front of his door.

"Mr. Al-Sayf?" The name escaped him puzzled when he finally opened the door to face his new boss, standing right in front of him. It had just been a few days since he had last seen him - an experience which he would certainly not soon forget; after all, he had not often been ambushed by some guy in a black suit, just when he emerged from a dark alley. It seemed as if Mr. Al-Sayf did not like casual clothes very much, unlike Altaїr who remained frozen on his spot at the door, after he simply had no clue what he should do.

In the face of Malik and his fancy suit, he suddenly felt naked - or as if he had bathed in horse manure. Nevertheless, he straightened his shoulders a bit and closed the fingers of his right hand around the door handle, as if he needed to hold onto something. Was he here because he already had one of those ominous jobs for him? As Malik looked at him, his eyes spoke volumes. Altaїr could see once again, how his eyes trailed down from his dyed hair tips to his holey socks.

Well.

"Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad." Malik finally replied with a small clearing of his throat and Altaїr noticed how he seemingly wrung his hands in an undecided gesture. He looked like he wanted to put his hands into the pockets of his pants, but then it seemed as if he dismissed it as rude and rubbed his palms against his pants. Almost sympathetic.

"What ... What can I do for you, sir?" He almost wished that Sef's diapers would need to be changed so he would have a reason to escape this situation immediately. But no, he had to face the situation for better or worse. Once again, Malik cleared his throat and craned his neck so he could catch a glimpse of the apartment over Altaїr's shoulder. Of course, Altaїr gave his best to prevent just that.

"Well, courtesy would probably demand you to invite me in, to begin with." Malik replied immediately, even if his politeness suddenly seemed out of place after they just yelled at each other in the darkness of a lonely street a few days ago.

"That's not possible at the moment." It would never be possible for as long as he would have to live in this apartment – or at least not until he did not have any furniture. A man like Malik Al-Sayf probably lived safely in a palace with gold faucets and diamonds as doorknobs. He probably had three cooks and a private house cleaner for every single room. It was as if a prince would visit a filthy hut. But Malik only raised his right eyebrow like he was trying to make it disappear underneath his hairline.

"Is today cleaning day?" As if someone like Malik knew, what a _cleaning day_ was anyway!

"Yes ... somewhat." Altaїr grumbled.

If it meant that he could with that explain his choice of clothing to Malik, it was a good enough answer. If it would keep Malik from entering his flat, he would probably say that his flat had just gone up in flames. Suddenly he became very well aware of the sound of approaching steps. First, they were barely even audible, but eventually they got louder and much more stomping. It was the telltale sound of an approaching four-year-old boy on colorful socks. It took less than ten seconds from the first sounding of the steps until Darim could try to curiously squeeze past his father to see what was going on at the door (and if he needed to help his father).

"Who's that, Daddy?" Croaked his firstborn, his successor, from behind him before he clawed his little fingers in Altaїr’s pants and squeezed his head as far as possible between Altaїrs thigh and the doorframe. Darim’s blue eyes lit up to Malik and the next moment he made a face as if he had just bitten into a lemon, as the realization hit him like a jackhammer right into the guts. "That's Tazim’s Daddy! Why do you know Tazim’s Daddy?" A legitimate question.

"Oh, Darim, you know-" Altaїr began knowing that his son could not stand when he began to haw around, but Malik interrupted him in a matter of seconds, as he crouched down in front of his child as if it was a matter of course, his hands based on his knees. He stopped right when he was at eyelevel with Darim and suddenly he did not look like the Malik Al-Sayf Altaїr met before at all.

"Why hello there, little man. I'm Malik and who are you?" Suddenly Altaїr seemed completely unimportant - indeed having disappeared somewhere into the background, swallowed by the monster now living inside their flat due to the probably cursed mirror, dragged into the closet with the unhinged door - now that his son had found a new interlocutor. Of course, as his father he was way too boring, who could blame the little guy?

"I am Darim." He announced confidently. Well now, Darim was not timidly at all – oh no, he was in fact quite confident for a four year old child - and this was something Altaїr was very proud of. He must’ve done at least something right with the kid.

"Glad to meet you, Darim." Malik smiled (it was a real smile, not the smirks and little smug grins Altaїr had seen until now) and stretched out his hand to the child. Just for a second Darim looked up to his father, but when Altaїr finally nodded, the little one decided it would be okay to shake hands with the no longer quite so strange man. "I believe my son Tazim goes in the same group like you in kindergarten, right?" Darim nodded and made a grimace. "Your father is now working for me, you know? That’s why I'm here. We have a little something to discuss."

Again his bright blue eyes shot up to his father's face and Altaїr guessed what was going to happen and knew he probably could not prevent it. "Well, then you need to come in." The four-year old boy quacked and pulled on Altaїr's leg, so that he would finally step aside.

"That’s not possible, Darim. I'm cleaning." Because at least he could try to prevent this from happening, but Darim’s face spoke volumes. "You're _aaaaalways_ cleaning, daddy. You could need a break - aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Sef's cold!"

For a moment, he found himself in quite a pretty pickle. If he would not follow Darim’s command, after the boy just told him that his baby brother was cold, he would be the worst father ever. He needed to take care of this, but that also meant that he needed to let Malik inside his fucking flat! And then again … why did he care anyway what Malik would think of his flat? The guy already knew that he did not have money, right? Well of course, absolutely anyone who would see him on the streets would know that he did not have any money. His clothes were torn and dirty and all in all he looked like a fucking homeless guy right from the streets. It was quite obvious that he was not living in a palace, but a place like this and this guy knew this pretty well. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Right?

With a deep sigh – more like a moan – he finally took a step back and then to the side, so Malik could step inside. “It’s quite … untidy.” He murmured and did his very best so his face would not show the embarrassment he felt right in that moment when his new boss stepped inside the flat. When he closed the door behind Malik, he felt as if he was being shoved with his face right into a puddle of manure. There was nothing but a blank expression on Malik's face. No judgment in his eyes or disgust. Then again, it wasn’t like his walls would be smeared with shit.

“Nice wallpaper.” Malik stated and Altaїr almost slapped him, but then he only grinned and made a court bow, while Darim waddled back into the living room – back to his little brother still lying on the rug paddling with his fat little arms and legs.

“Yes. I thought this seventies styled wallpapers and carpets would match my personality.” Altaїr grinned and gestured towards the living room. Malik smirked a little bit and then marched on into the quite empty living room. Still there were a few boxes left unpacked, still there was not much furniture. “Did you think no furniture would match your personality too?” Malik then asked and Altaїr scratched his neck.

“Well I didn’t have enough time to buy something until now.” He wouldn’t say that he hadn’t had enough money to buy furniture – at least a bed for his son – because he knew that Malik knew. It was no secret. It was written all over the place and across his stupid, stupid face. Darim went back to playing with his brother. It was quite a sight for the sore eye when Darim would pull the baby to him to cuddle him or play with him and Altaїr could only be grateful that Darim loved his brother so much. Then he pointed to the grey couch, which belonged to the previous owners and still reeked a little bit of cat piss. “Have a seat. Can I offer you something to drink?” – Because he did not have forgotten his manners or the way his grandmother raised him.

“Oh no, I don’t need anything, thank you.” He noticed the glance Malik flashed at the Couch and he knew what he was thinking.

“The previous tenants left the couch here. I cleaned the bloody thing over and over since we moved in, but the smell won’t get away.” He then told Malik and in the same instant, he did not even know why he told him those things. It wasn’t as if he needed to justify those things, right? After all, it was not his fault! And yet he did not want Malik to think him unclean and messy.

“It’s okay. I have a cat; I am used to the stench of cat urine. When I got my cat the little idiot peed all over the place.” Malik then responded, before he crossed the room and sat down on the grey couch as if it was the most normal thing to do. He looked so extremely out of place it nearly hurt his eye. There he sat in his suit and tie with his kempt hair and groomed beard on Altaїr’s dirty couch and talked about his cat. The guy had a cat. His new boss was a cat lover. Wowser.

“You have a cat?” Darim yelped with big-big eyes. “I want a cat too! But Daddy says we can’t have a cat because Mr. Alfonso doesn’t want it.” And thus Darim abandoned his baby brother just to climb up to Malik.

“Yes, I indeed have a cat. I got him when my son Tazim was just born so he could have a companion. His name is Pringles.” Altaїr’s eyes grew huge without him even noticing. _Pringles_. For real? Well now he was quite sure he must be dreaming all of this.

“Pringles.” He coughed before he grabbed his baby son from the floor and sat down on the couch with them. Darim was right the little guy really was a bit cold. No wonder after Altaїr had ripped open all the windows once again. Malik glanced at him and although Altaїr already expected a death glare of him, he only got a playful smirk. “Yes, Pringles.” He replied. “It was my brother’s idea. You _know_ my brother.”

That indeed he did.

“So why are you here exactly? Is there something I need to do?” Because the guy was not here to talk about his cat. At least he hoped he wasn’t.

Malik looked at him as if he almost forgot what he was here for and suddenly remembered it again. "No, not exactly. I'm just here to tell you that you need to start your training tomorrow. Arno will attend to you until you're ready to work your first shift."

"As a dancer?" Darim asked with huge eyes. Of course, by now he had asked his father what a stripper was, but Altaїr told him that it meant he was working as a dancer. His little one was joyous, because he knew his father used to dance before he was born. He of course did not know – at least he hadn’t processed it – that his father stopped dancing because of him and his brother. Malik nodded. "Exactly." Malik replied, but Altaїr could see how he scrunched his nose and whatever he wanted to say afterwards, he did not say it. "What is that smell?" He asked instead.

Well, it was not exactly the most polite thing to ask someone about their flat – at least when they weren't friends with the owner of said flat – but Altaїr could hardly blame him, after all the smell really was horrible and Desmond could hardly stand being in here for all too long. "I have not the slightest idea." He sighed and Darim nodded. "It smells funny since we're living here!" The boy commented.

"Yes, no matter how much I try to get fresh air in and the stench out, it never vanishes. I thought it would get better as time progresses, but in fact it got only worse." And now it got to the point that he grew worried if his kids were safe at all in this flat. What if it was mold creeping through his walls? What if it was a poisonous fungus behind the awful wallpapers? What if it was worse?

"The house is not exactly a new building. Perhaps it's some kind of mold." Malik murmured but then rose from his spot on the couch and crossed the room as if it was his place. Altaїr too rose from the couch and grabbed his baby son tighter, even though Sef did not seem to be very interested in the situation at all. The little guy only yawned and lost his pacifier (thanks to the little chain attached to it and Sef's clothes, at least the bloody thing wouldn’t fall to the ground). "But mold doesn’t smell." Malik then continued. "It stinks more as if something has died."

Now he really felt a little attacked. "I never found anything _dead_ in this flat." He growled but followed Malik nonetheless through the living room on the mission to look for the source of the stench. Right in front of the mountain of unboxed boxes, he stopped and sniffed just like a freakin' bloodhound! "It's coming from behind the boxes I think."

Altaїr lifted one eyebrow. Behind the boxes? "There is nothing behind those boxes." Malik turned around, a look of pure disbelieve written all over his face. "Are you kidding me? It comes from behind the boxes I said. Now move your lazy a- _bum_ and help me move the boxes." It was not really a surprise that they couldn’t cooperate like normal people for a very long time. Of course, they would start to argue as soon as possible – even though it was not yet as worse as it was a few days ago – perhaps because of the children.

"You calling me lazy? I work my ass off every day while you sit in some nice office in your comfy chair and do nothing!" He growled, but then he put Sef into his little bed, while Darim watched them as if he was watching a movie. Folk music was still blaring through his flat. Suddenly he felt like he really was the star of a very bad independent movie.

"Just do it you lazy bum." Malik growled and Darim snickered a little behind them. From now on _lazy bum_ would be one of his most favorite things to say. It was most likely that his kindergarten teacher would want to speak to him in a few days (something that probably wouldn’t be all that bad, considering that his kindergarten teacher was also Altaїr's co-worker from now on).

"Don’t you have to take care of your son or something like this?" He moaned and yet he did was Malik wanted him to and helped him moving the few boxes he had piled up in the corner of the living room.

"Don’t worry about my son, he has a nanny."

"Of course he has a nanny."

"What is a nanny, Daddy?" Darim chimed in from the couch while his father and his boss were moving the boxes.

"That’s someone who takes care of your children when you need to work." He explained.

"You mean like Desmond? Is Uncle Desmond my nanny?" His son was not stupid - Something else which sparked a great deal of pride in him. His son was clever and he knew bullshit when he saw it. Malik flashed him a smug grin and Altaїr only clenched his jaw. "Yes, kind of." He murmured when he moved the last box to the window. The box was quite heavy and was probably filled with Maria's books. He did not even know why he brought them with him to New York. He could’ve thrown them away or sell them.

Behind the box was no corpse. There was no dead body, no blood, no guts, no decaying something at all, but another small ventilation shaft, only a few inches above the floor. It looked exactly like the ventilation shaft in the bathroom he checked right before and the grille was just as dusty as the one in the bathroom too. "I totally forgot about this." Altaїr murmured. Of course, he did forget, after he just put all the boxes in front of this thing when he moved in. He had been tired as fuck and only wanted to go to sleep that day. Then the next days had hit him with work and responsibilities and he just forgot.

"Do you have a screwdriver?" Malik then asked and Altaїr bit back a mean comment. He did not believe that Malik even knew how to handle a screwdriver. He was wearing a fancy suit for god's sake! Malik was that kind of guy who never experienced a day of hard labor in his life.

"No I don’t." Altaїr replied, but moved to the door. "But I do have a nail file." And with that, he hurried out of the room and right back into the bathroom (past his new cursed mirror) and grabbed the nail file he left on the rim of the sink. With that very dangerous weapon, he went back to Malik and into the living room, where Darim by now moved back to his rug and his new toy. Sef was completely silent in his bed, but when Altaїr passed it, he saw him wiggling in his little nest of blankets, fully asleep. Sef was always quite twitchy when he slept, but he slept like a rock nonetheless in a matter of only a few moments.

"Here we go maestro." Altaїr grinned and crouched down right in front of the grille where Malik already sat and waited for the tool. By now, Altaїr did not have the slightest clue how this whole situation did happen! How was it even remotely possible that his new boss Malik Al-fucking-Sayf sat on his dirty carpet and loosened some stupid rusty screws from a dusty brazen grille? But Malik seemed to be right, because right there the smell was almost unbearable and made Altaїr's stomach turn and his eyes all teary, while Malik only scrunched his nose, his face otherwise stony as ever.

When the grille was off, Altaїr took it and Malik pulled his phone from the right front pocket of his dress pants. A few seconds later, he managed to activate the light of his phone to flash it inside the shaft. First Altaїr did not see anything, after he leant over Malik's shoulder to see at least the ghost of something and he already wanted to say that there wasn’t a thing in that shaft, but then he saw _it_. _Finally_. Finally, he could make out the source of the horrible stench in his flat – a fucking dead opossum, decaying in his fucking old ventilation system, sealed off by boxes of unused books and clothes.

And now that the spell was finally broken, the smell hit him like a fist right in the face.

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When Malik got out of his car, the cold air hit him right in the face. October was slowly coming to an end and he was quite sure the first snow of the year would come sooner as he would like – just like his twenty-eighth birthday. Hurray. It was yet early in the day, not even afternoon, when he locked his black car. Of course, by now his beloved vehicle had been in the hands of his most trusted mechanics. Yet the damage had left a scar on his mind. Slowly he made his way towards the _Plan B_ , even though it was quite rare for him being at this establishment so early in the day. Normally Kadar would look after the business during the day.

It was not that far from his parking spot to the back door of the strip club, but the time he used to pick his phone from his pocket and to dial a number he knew all too well by now. He did not like to call this very number, but he had no other choice. Since his visit at Altaїr's place only a few days ago, he had turned the topic over and over in his head. When he pressed his phone to his ear, it rang one-two-three times, before the victim picked up.

"Buon giorno brother."

Malik was quite proud that his accent wasn’t very thick and that most people wouldn’t suspect where he was from only judging by his voice – Ezio Auditore (and his entire family) was on the other hand a little bit _different_. His Italian heritage could be deducted from a mile away and when he spoke, he spoke with such drama in his voice, with bass and melody and the sun of Florence pearling from his every syllable.

Malik hated him.

He was seen as a potential terrorist, as a jobless scumbag who tried to scam hardworking people or bomb their houses, even though he spoke perfect English and was well educated – Ezio on the other hand was seen as this attractive, mysterious and probably rich Italian noble man. People suspected him to have stolen his beloved BMW, just like his suits and watches – when it came to Ezio on the other hand it was only natural for people that he had a fancy car and expensive clothes, because being Italian you are born fabulous.

Fucking Italian prick.

"What is it that I can help you with?" Ezio then roared and sounded a lot as if he was lying naked in his bed with a whole bunch of women, all fast asleep after a long night of passionate _lovemaking_ – how Ezio would call it.

“Salam Aleikum.” Malik replied finally with a low growl but as dry as humanly possible. “Truth is I think I can help _you_.”

“Oh.” Ezio snickered. Oh how Malik hated this fucking sound. “Is that so?”

“I believe you are currently looking for a new _investment_ , right? Perhaps I do have something that could indeed interest you.” He did not like doing business with this man. Hell no, he did not like doing business with really anyone. But when Malik Al-Sayf finally hung up and walked into his establishment, he felt a little lighter and did not even know why. Ezio had agreed to most of his suggestions and even added a few other things with which Malik was highly pleased.

Inside the _Plan B_ the music was blaring from the speakers all around the place, as soon as Malik passed the bar only to see how Altaїr flung his right leg around the pole while he was seemingly desperate to look graceful – or sexy, how Arno right then and there stated, standing right in front of the little stage. It did not work that well. No, it really did not. He looked more like a drunken monkey.

"No, no, no! Not like that!" Arno laughed and shot his hands up to his head.

“What? Are you saying that I am not sexy? Won’t you get turned on?” Altaїr cackled when he finally slid down to the ground in a movement that probably should look sexy while he wiggled his ass like a chicken. It was quite obvious that he was exhausted. Sweat was glistening on his forehead and little beads of sweat were slowly dripping over his temple, down his cheekbones or over the back of his nose, getting lost in the fine stubbles of his beard.

"More like a donkey!" Arno then laughed with his thick French accent, his long fingers clawing at his long hair in desperation because of the lack of talent his student seemed to possess. "Perhaps the pole is just not your friend."

Malik decided to stay away a little, just far enough away to not be seen by the two men (or more likely by Altaїr). He wanted to watch, not to be confronted, even though he was here to talk to Altaїr and not to watch the half-naked man.

"Oh don’t be ridiculous! I managed just fine until you asked me to do _witchcraft_!"

"That is not _witchcraft_! You are just clumsy. I thought you used to be a dancer!" The Frenchman crossed his arms, but still there was humor to his voice. Arno was not exhausted even a bit after he probably showed Altaїr all those insane things he could do on that pole. Altaїr seemed to be impressed – and he was probably even somewhat intrigued by the things Arno could do, that was at least what Malik thought about the ex-dancer. Altaїr seemed to be a man who needed challenges in his life – even though he had more than enough challenges already as it seemed. It even looked as if he already forgot that all this was only for the sole purpose of him getting naked in front of a bunch of total strangers. Or he finally befriended the thought.

"I was!" Altaїr snorted. "But I used to dance ballet and freestyle and hip hop and stuff like that. There was never a pole involved in my dancing lessons."

"Well know there is and you better get used to it."

"Perhaps his field of action is more like belly dancing." Malik finally made himself known to the two men, when he emerged from the shadows of the passage between bar and stage area. Altaїr flinched a bit and a tiny voice inside his head told him how cute it looked. Perhaps he should make him flinch more often. It was probably good that Altaїr was not hanging on that pole, because otherwise he would’ve broken his neck the next moment, when his eyes finally met Malik.

"That’s racist!" Arno laughed and ruffled though his long hair before he tied his ponytail anew (of course he only had to tie it anew because he kept ruffling through his long hair in exasperation).

"So what?" Malik smirked.

Altaїr was incredibly sweaty when he jumped from the stage to cross the distance between him and his new boss. He sure was a little embarrassed; at least he looked like he was, now that his new boss had watched him. But all in all, they would work together from now on.

Malik had ordered him to come every single day and stay the whole morning so Arno could teach him how to do all that fancy stuff, on that Saturday morning after they discovered the dead opossum. Until now he did not even demand anything else from him since. No special errands, no nothing. All he was ordered to do was to learn until he was good enough to dance in front of the customers without scaring them away.

Well at least Arno assured him yesterday that Altaїr now knew how to undress as sexy as humanly possible and Malik was certain that he found the lack of clothing during the training with Arno even quite pleasant. At least there were no clothes to wash afterwards because they were drained in sweat. Arno had been flabbergasted, after the first day of training with Altaїr and Malik now felt a little bit more at ease, now that he knew he had made the right decision. Altaїr was a great dancer how Arno assured him, and he was a very quick learner. People like him Malik could use – not only for dancing in his club, that was for sure – but now Malik wished he could see the guy dance like he was used to.

Of course, Malik would never ask.

"Well, perhaps this belly dancing thing is not even that bad of an idea." Arno then snickered when he followed Altaїr to Malik and greeted the Boss with a court nod, when the three men met half way.

"No, I want to learn this sorcery." Altaїr was adamant. Yes, Malik indeed liked that. He needed men who were eager to learn and work.

"Stop calling it that." Arno grinned. "It's not that big of a deal really!"

Malik could almost read Altaїr's mind and he couldn’t even blame him. He himself was not even able to move to the beat at all. "I can manage this stunt, you'll see, just give me a bit more time."

"Don’t worry." Malik then said. "You will have plenty more time to learn this, but tonight you will start working."

"So soon?" Altaїr gasped and looked more like a deer in the headlights of a truck. He sure was no insecure man. He knew exactly what he was capable of and he knew exactly that he was good looking. That was something Malik knew right from the start about this guy in front of him. Perhaps that was the reason why he tried and gave him another chance after he demolished his beautiful car. He liked confident people – even though Altaїr needed to be straightened up a little.

"Arno assured me that you are ready to start." Malik then shrugged his shoulders. "I've got your costume in the back. Come on, I'll show it to you." Indeed, he had his costume in the back room. He did so for a few days now. Kadar already taunted him because of this. Normally he would never grant a new dance that much time to get settled in and he knew that his other dancers were looking quizzically at Altaїr for this treatment. Malik considered himself a good boss. He was not a good guy. He was not a nice guy. But he was a fair employer. He tried to arrange the best working conditions for his employees because only then they would find joy in their work and when they did the customers would find joy in them. That’s how easy it really was. Yet he wanted to see results and profit. He did not open this establishment just for fun, but because he wanted to make profit. No, even that was not the truth. Of course he cared for profit, but he could make profit with a café too or with a normal bar and it was not like the _Plan B_ was his only business in town. He did not open the _Plan B_ because it was his greatest desire, but because others chose this for him and he needed to obey. Now he could give it to his baby brother like he was expected to, but he couldn’t bring himself to it. He liked being in charge over this place. Well, all in all it was better than the things Ezio needed to do and better than what the Kenways did.

He felt Arno's gaze on him when he led Altaїr to the backroom – and yes, Malik knew perfectly well that it was quite weird for him to do this himself. He had staff to show them new dancers their costumes. But now he wandered through the building, past the bar and right into the back room. Altaїr was completely silent on the way, but he was still exhausted and his naked feet smacked on the ground.

"Oh you can't be serious." The boy finally exclaimed when Malik turned on the light in the room. Malik liked the costume. It was not his choice. Kadar chose it – but he liked it anyway. "I will not wear this."

"Yes you will." Malik grinned. "Tonight. The ads for your show tonight are already out there. People will come in hordes to see you dance and you don’t even have to get undressed. That’s something right?"

"It's embarrassing."

"No it's not. It's sexy."

"It's racist."

"I'm an Arab too. I can be racist to another Arab if I want to. And I know you learned this. Desmond told me." When he looked at Altaїr's face, his skin was burning red like a cherry ready to be plucked. He never saw a man that embarrassed in his life and that amused him greatly. "I even got a live band for you."

"No. I won't do it. You can't force me."

"Oh I will force you if I must. I invest money in you. Don’t be such a baby. Just see it as a part of our culture brought to live through your talent." The grimace he was making was priceless.

"I never saw a male belly dancer before in my life."

"Well congratulations then, now you will become one. But we need to do something about your hair first."


	7. belly dancing 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I didn’t do a good job with the dancing scene, but it was quite hard to not write too much unnecessary stuff which could’ve been boring to read ~.~ Anyway see the end notes for an important question!

"No." Altaїr sighed. "No. I can't do that." It wasn’t that much that he couldn’t - he just did not _want_ to. That of course was a whole other thing than being not able to do something. Oh, he was pretty much capable of doing exactly what he was ordered to - he just did not _want_ to. Desmond's snickering somewhere behind him did not make it any better at all.

"Oh come on, don’t be such a baby, Altaїr!" He then chuckled. Of course, after all it was not Desmond who needed to do all this stuff. No, Desmond would stand behind his bar, mix fancy drinks for fancy men and would have nothing to do with the things happening on stage. "It really is no big deal."

"Why don’t you put on the costume then and I maintain the bar?" Altaїr growled when he turned around to face his cousin, his face bright red and a mix of disbelieve and anxiety, but Desmond only stepped back. He clearly looked as if he really had a hard time to not burst into a fit of violent laughter at the sight of his enraged younger cousin.

"Well" He coughed. "Firstly because I have no clue how do belly dance and secondly because you are so clumsy you would bankrupt our boss with all the expensive bottles and glasses you would manage to smash within an hour." He was not wrong, that he needed to grant his cousin. Desmond really knew him way too good after all those years together. Yet, he only wanted to escape - Now that he was standing in the otherwise empty back room again, half naked, his costume hanging behind him like the sword of Damocles.

"But I don’t wanna!" Altaїr then whined. He knew it wouldn't help if he would start whining about it, but because he also knew that nothing would help him now, he might as well start whining like a little baby. "I don’t wanna put this on!"

Desmond sighed and ruffled through his short hair, before he grabbed the hanger and the belly dancing costume and shoved it against Altaїr's chest. "Do it, you whiny little moron or I'll call Dad and tell him about you behaving like a baby again." The Miles did not have much contact since Desmond moved to New York years ago, but he was sure his cousin would break his silence with his father only to blackmail Altaїr.

"But you don’t understand!" Altaїr continued, while his fingers clawed into the fabric of the bloody costume. " _You_ don’t need to get naked on stage! I'm not even gay! It would be easier if I were gay! Let's just swap places, no one will notice!"

" _You_ won't have to get naked on stage either, you idiot. Not today at least. It's not that hard, I promise. You can do that, I have seen you dance before and I have seen you practice today. You're great at this." Desmond was a saint, Altaїr knew that for a fact. Some twenty-seven years ago, his cousin fell from the heavens to help poor and lost souls like him. His heart was way too big for his own good and he would try everything to cheer up somebody if necessary.

"Noooo~" Altaїr tried again, but this time he let his shoulders slump and tilted his head downwards, while he flashed his amber eyes at Desmond in this remarkable fashion only little puppy dogs or kittens could muster. He knew Desmond was immune against this look, but yet he needed to try this! "I don’t wanna… Shaun laughed about me."

"So? Nothing new there I see. Those guys out there won't laugh at you. Come on now. Put this bloody thing on. Malik counts on you, he trusts you with that."

"What makes you believe that he trusts me? Why should he? He doesn't even know me!" Only that this man had helped him getting rid of a dead opossum in his flat a few days ago.

"Because I have already seen other people getting employed and he never made such a fuss about any of them. Arno is the only one of the dancers who rarely gets his own little show, not to mention a live band! Malik probably planned this evening since you made the deal with him and the entire evening is centered solely on your debut! We all know that you can do this and that you are brilliantly talented."

"But I _hate_ belly dancing!" He moaned and felt the heat burning in his cheeks and ears. He was not dumb. He knew Malik planned all this to give him this remarkable debut and he never expected something like that, but the truth was the whole _Plan B_ was decorated accordingly to his show, which would begin in only forty minutes from now.

Altaїr spent his whole afternoon with the kids at Desmond's, practicing like a mad man, after Malik gave him a CD of the band, which would be playing during his show. He knew the tracks by heart. He knew the rhythm. He knew what they would play during the show, he knew how to move. He knew everything. And he knew he could do it. Truth was it felt great being back on the stage again, when he started his training with Arno. Getting undressed during it had been a little bit uncomfortable at first, especially when he constantly had in mind that it were gay guys watching him getting naked as sexy as possible in the future, but it soon wasn’t all that bad anymore. He soon found his joy again in dancing and moving to the beat.

Dancing was in his blood and in his heart and soul. It was his entire being which centered on it and all that came back to him crashing like a wave against the shore. He loved this. He did not want to miss it again.

"No you don’t." Desmond laughed. "You loved it when you started it. Don’t you remember?"

"I was fourteen!"

"So what? You loved it then and you will love it now. I've seen you practice today, young man. You _liked_ it." Desmond's eyes glistened with ulterior joy, because they both knew he was right. "No go on, just do it. Put the stuff on, I'll help you."

He knew it was hopeless. He knew he did not have a choice and yet he felt anxious. He felt his skin crawl. He never knew stage fright, yet he did now. With a final and very much defeated sigh, he then nodded and stepped back. "Okay…" He sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll do it."

And with that, Desmond left him to his own devices, even if it was only until Altaїr would need his help. Alone in the backroom he felt trapped. He knew Desmond was waiting for him on the other side of that door in his uniform. He heard him chat with the other dancers and waiters wandering through the staff area. He could hear doors being shut or being opened and the muffled music from the club. The evening really was centered completely around him. It was odd. Very, very odd. He wasn’t used to the limelight, even though he always dreamt about it.

After another moment of hesitation, he began to undress and put on the costume he needed to wear. The little silver coins attached to his pants were jingling in his ears, when he pulled them up and he was sure the sound would haunt him forever in his dreams or would have deafened him as soon as his show would be over. They coins were heavy and giving the impression of being not fake at all, just like all the colorful shimmering sequins attached to his vest and belt.

For a moment, he looked at himself in the large mirror leaning against a wall. The backroom was no dressing room. It was more like a storage room and Altaїr had not the slightest clue why he needed to change in here, but at least the fact that this room had been securely locked before gave him a slight hint. It was quite possible that his new costume was that expensive that Malik feared for it being stolen or ripped in any way.

However, in all honesty, he was quite glad that he was here by himself now. He did not mind changing his clothes surrounded by other men – even gay ones – but he did mind it now. Even though it was odd for him now to be that fussy. He did not want to be the fussy one. He did not want to be treated different than the other dancers. He did not want to risk the possibility of hatred centered onto him. He did not want any trouble, not after all the things he already went through.

For a moment, when he just looked at himself in the mirror he stopped and thought about what his grandmother would say about him now if she could see him. Or what his grandfather would say. Or … Or what _Maria_ would say.

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_"You cannot be serious, Altaї_ _r!" Maria's face was a mix of honest disbelieve and anger centered solely on her boyfriend. It was already dark outside and the night hung pitch black over Boston, ready to swallow the city a whole, while Altaїr stood by the makeshift cabinet he built from old furniture he found in the streets and slowly closed one of the drawers._

_"What do you mean?" The young man replied and slowly, very, very slowly put down his black socks like a dangerous weapon, his eyes fixated on his highly pregnant girlfriend sitting on their beloved and way too soft couch._

_"What I mean?" Maria exclaimed and gestured towards his black socks as if they had personally angered her. Altaїr on the other hand would find no reason what so ever which would explain why his socks would anger her. They were intact. Those socks were his only pair without any holes in it! Not even a single teeny-tiny one! "This I mean!"_

_"My socks?" He frowned and pulled them closer to his face, only to have his girlfriend smack one hand against her forehead._

_"No not your stupid socks, you idiot!" She then yelled. She often yelled at him, this really was nothing new anymore and by now Altaїr already surpassed the stage of feeling attacked by it. Their relationship wasn’t like it used to be, that was for sure and he knew Maria was not happy. She was not happy with him. She was not happy with what they called home. She was not happy with the progress of her studies. She was not happy with her life and most importantly, she was not happy with being pregnant again or with being a mother in the first place at such a young age._

_Altaїr could only sigh and leant heavily against the cabinet. "Then what, Maria?" He growled. "What do you mean?! Be out with it, I can't stand this any longer!"_

_"What do you mean?" She hissed, feeling obviously attacked by his response. Of course she did. She was not used to him answering back. It was not like he was a wuss, not daring to talk back to his girlfriend. He was no henpecked husband, kissing the ground she walked on, reading her every wish from her eyes. He was very much capable of standing his ground if necessary, only that he mostly held back his anger especially now that she was again pregnant._

_"I mean the way you look at me all the time. Or… well, this! What's wrong now? Why are you angry with me again? What did I do this time? Now, tell me! Perhaps you have all the right reasons to be angry with me, perhaps I forgot something important to do. If so, then just tell me and don’t play those games, alright?" Oh, he was so tired of this shit and of their constant battling recently. Most of the time she wouldn’t even let him sleep next to her, so he had no other choice then to seek shelter on the ground. In all honesty it was quite the miracle that he even managed to get her pregnant a second time by the lack of sex they had since Darim's birth. When he told his best friend Rauf, the guy only shook his head in disbelieve and said something along the lines of 'Every shot's a winner!'._

_"_ What's wrong _?" Maria snorted. "Look around! Can't you see_ what's wrong _? I knew you were stupid, but I never thought you to be blind too! We are living in this dumpster of an apartment for almost three years now, that’s wrong! The only upgrade we got was this fucking couch! This is not what I planned for my life, Altaїr! And now you come home and declare that you will go out and have fun with your so called friends!"_

_Now, that again. Of course. He knew this would happen again sooner or later. The worst part was that she was right. They did not achieve a thing since Darim was born. Only for a second, he looked to his son's cot only to find Darim standing upright, clutching at the wooden bars of his cot to support his body. He still had his trusted pacifier even though they probably should start to wean him from this habit by now. Darim's blue eyes rested on his father with this same look of fright he would always see in his baby's face when they were arguing._

_"Do you think that’s what I've planned? I've planned a career too, you know?" But Maria snorted again and scrunched up her nose. This perfect nose he loved so dearly._

_"Career! You wanted to be a dancer, that’s no career, that’s a hobby, Altaїr."_

_"Well then, what are you expecting me to do now then? Shall I ran and beg your father for money so you can have a nicer home? Shall I try to convince your professor to give you better marks? I work my ass off, Maria! Every day! I leave the house every morning three hours before you even consider waking up. I have three jobs so I can provide for you three and I know that’s not enough! But I can't do more! I do what I can and all I asked for was this night to have a little fun with the only friend who is left for me now."_

_He hated the grimace Maria was pulling right then and there and if he was a violent man, he would've punched her right now. He felt the tension in his whole body, the anger rising, erupting as steam from his ears. He felt his cheeks and his neck and his ears burning with fury and he did his very best to not raise his voice, no matter how much he would like to. Oh, he was so done with this. He always wanted his own family. He was greedy. He was selfish. He was so much yearning for this and he wanted nothing more than for it to work out. He wanted to have this new baby, this little guy who did not even know yet in what kind of a family he was to be born. He loved this little life growing inside Maria, this perfect little miracle he longed for so much, but he was only twenty-one years old and he had no clue what to do or how to make his girlfriend - his family - happy. Because he was not enough and he would never be enough._

_"You're right, Altaїr. It's not enough. You could've had a better paid job already, we both know that."_

_Now it was him making a face and finally he threw this damned socks on the ground in frustration. He just wanted to escape this hellhole. He wanted to get madly drunk with his best and only friend in this damned town after Desmond left him behind years ago. He ruined his life and he ruined Maria's life with this stupid thing dangling between his stupid legs, as it seemed._

_"Don’t start this again, Maria." He then growled. "I will never accept a job offering from this guy."_

_"Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Robert only wants to help us!"_

_"Robert only wants to bang you!" He then yelled and finally Darim dropped his pacifier to let out a long wailing cry, thick tears streaming over his little face. Maria was about to get up from the sofa, moaning like always to underline her condition, but Altaїr was quicker to close the distance between him and his baby boy. It did not take much to soothe Darim. When he picked him up, he stopped crying almost immediately and snuggled against his father's frame._

_He tried to avoid looking at Maria while he gently rocked Darim and murmured softly in his little ear right by his chin. Feeling him relax against his own body was the best feeling he ever felt in this damned world and he wondered if his own father had felt the very same way. He often wondered if his father held a grudge against him because his mother's death. Then again, he could never find it in him to be angry with his child for a long time._

_"So what now?" Maria then groaned and sat down again, grabbing one of her books, which she would not look into anyway. He knew she would start typing on her phone the minute he would turn his back to her again. Perhaps he was not as smart as her, at least that was what she always implied, but he knew perfectly well with whom she always texted and why he was not allowed to look at her phone. There was a small knock at the door and with that Altaїr finally knew what to do - at least for tonight._

_"That’s Rauf." He murmured and when he turned, he saw the angry look Maria flashed him. All he wanted to do was to have a good time with Rauf, to visit his favorite club and dance through the night like he did before he became a dad. "Darim and I will spend the night at his place."_

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The oh so familiar sound of the Ud surrounded Malik, when he finally sat down right in front of the stage. It was rare that he would find a place among his guests in the front row of the stage room, because most times he would rather sit in his office or at the bar. He was the owner of this place and thus he was not here to have fun but to manage things and do boring business stuff. Yet he enjoyed hearing the plucking on the strings of the Ud and the sound of the fingers drumming on the wood. First, he feared his customers wouldn’t like his choice of music and theme he chose for this evening, but now the men around him seemed to enjoy themselves. Some of them were sipping their drinks as usual, others the sweet Turkish tee the waiters served, while they were chatting or watching the other dancers. Tonight things were different here in the _Plan B_ and Malik could feel this the moment the guy with the Kanoun joined his colleague.

When he now closed his eyes he felt for a moment like he was back home in Syria again, back in the heat of the desert sun, back to where the hot air was flickering over the ground inside the city. Last time he visited Damascus was with his father and Kadar, but he couldn't remember it very good. Too many years had passed since and his father was long gone by now, after he left his son as the head of the Al-Sayf family. Due to the war in Syria there was not much left anymore from their once big clan anyway. Masyaf had fallen long ago.

The music grew louder and the air shifted, but then the music stopped suddenly for only a second before only the Ud began playing again, slowly and quietly. Only a little soft tug on the strings every now and then, only a small, soft thud against the wood. Malik knew, when the guy next to him gasped in surprise, that the show finally started.

"Oh no, he's hot." A dark voice hissed right in Malik's left ear before he even opened his eyes.

"For Christ's sake Kadar, don't do this."

"Don’t do what?" The younger of the Al-Sayf Brothers snickered, while the music started to get a little louder. Malik knew this song by heart and he knew that Altaїr very probably was already on stage but hadn't done anything yet really. Of course, a part of him feared for Altaїr having chickened out on him and vanished through the back door like a thief in the night and perhaps that was why he couldn’t force himself to open his eyes again. It was not as if he would trust Altaїr - hell, he hardly even knew the guy - yet he wanted to spare himself this disappointment.

"Don’t rehash some stupid _Tumblr_ memes in my strip club." Malik then groaned.

"I'm not rehashing anything. Altaїr _is_ hot. Just open your eyes and see for yourself. I would totally fuck him." Kadar grinned. Well, of course, Malik couldn’t see him grin, but he knew his little brother and thus he knew he was grinning.

"You're not gay, Kadar."

"I would totally be gay for him."

"You cannot be gay, Kadar. I won't allow it." And Malik was well aware that he sounded a lot like his late father Faheem or _Uncle_ Giovanni when he said that. Being gay in their cultural standing was not something that was very much desired - at least not when it came to the Italian part of their family (even though Malik had no clue why and how exactly they were related to the Auditores _or_ the Kenways).

"Why not? You're gay."

"We can't have two gays in the family. We are the last Al-Sayfs."

"Sounds more like the last unicorn. We still have Tazim. Nothing lost yet. If you don't want to look at him and if you don't want to bang him, I totally will. Hell I would bang him right now on the stage with everyone looking!"

Finally, Kadar's words showed a result, because Malik finally pried open his eyes again. The light was dim now. No. It was _dimmer_ than before. The show had started. Still only the Ud was being played lazily in the background and there was only one single spotlight on the man playing the traditional instrument, while his fellow band members were again shrouded in darkness. Malik could hardly make out the faces of the other guests, but the few he could spot - like the one of his little brother to his left - were looking straight to the big stage in front of Malik, their eyes glued to the figure standing on the platform.

Altaїr was barely even visible, but the spotlight shining on the Ud-Player was illuminating the left side of his body, standing right in the center of the stage, ever so slightly. Malik could see the coins dangling from his hips, glistening in the faint light. A part of him was simply glad Altaїr had made it on to the stage. This was a step in the right direction for the young man, even though he had no clue why it would interest him that much. It shouldn’t interest him. Altaїr was only one of many poor souls in this city and this establishment. He did not care for those people or their tragic life stories. Yet he took a dead opossum out of this man's flat.

He had chosen the dark colors of Altaїr's costume well, Malik thought. The dark blue suited him well, even though it appeared nearly black right now. All the different shades of blue would come out just right as soon as the stage would be lit properly, but now Altaїr just stood there and Malik's eyes darted over what he could see of his body. He could already see his partially naked torso and a bit of his well-defined muscles. Altaїr was thin, or at least thinner than Desmond, probably due to his unhealthy lifestyle. He had done his research (of course) and he had seen photos of this guy from before. The Altaїr now was nothing compared to then, but he could get back there again. No, he could be better than back then.

"Oh no, he's hot." Malik muttered under his breath when he watched the slight jerking of Altaїr's left hip and heard the first jingling of the coins. And finally when Altaїr slowly shoved his left naked foot forward and out of the shadow the light centered on him. Altaїr's body moved like a snake, as he turned his back to the audience and now that the light was shining exclusively on him the various shades of dark blue from his costume came out just as pretty as Malik imagined. The wide pants sat low on his hips so his bones stood out deliciously to the audience if he would turn around again. Malik's gaze drifted over the fine curve of his spine and his waist as Altaїr's slim hands drove along his waistline without even touching his own skin. The silver coins and the colorful sequins on the belt of his pants and on the short vest he wore were glistening and shimmering beautifully. It was perfect. _He_ was perfect. The way his various bracelets moved on his arms when he slowly raised them over his head, the way he moved his weight on his right foot to free the left one and how the music finally start up again, was exactly like he had envisioned it to be.

Altaїr was pretty good at what he was doing. There was no sign of him having not danced for five years now. He moved as if it was natural to him, as if he was born like this. His hips were behaving like they had a mind of their own, shimmying to the rising crescendo of the Ud and of the little Riqq. Slowly Altaїr unfolded his arms to the sides, moving them ever so slightly up or down, with his hands curling in on themselves like snakes during a mating ritual and Malik could witness all of his muscles of his lower back working with every little movement. This was pure concentration and Malik envied him.

Finally, Altaїr turned around again, his body bending in an unnatural angle around itself before he faced the audience once more. Only for a short moment, their eyes locked and Malik leant back just a bit in his chair, engulfed by the amber as the light touched them. It was a good call getting rid of the blue in Altaїr's hair, no matter how much the boy protested. Now his whole appearance, with the wide pants, his naked feet, the open short vest, the dangling bracelets and his short sand brown hair, was promising of sun, desert, and heat. Never in his life had Malik seen his guests so quiet. Even Kadar was silenced and sat there with open mouth and gawking eyes.

When Altaїr began moving again and followed the movement of his own body with his eyes the spell was broken again and Malik finally took the breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding. The music grew louder and faster as finally all, the other musicians joined in and Altaїr's dance grew faster. It was magnificent and even the guests joined in clapping their hands in the rhythm of the music for the dancer who bent and twisted his body as if it was nothing.

Altaїr was born for the stage, Malik could see that very clearly. Well, he had seen it before, but now it was all the more obvious to him, when he saw how Altaїr used the space he had and filled the whole stage with his dance, flinging his long legs into the air, showing of the skills he not only learned during his belly-dancing-lessons but in his ballet classes. His face was serious, but Malik could see the hint of joy glimmering in his eyes and finally a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, while he circled over the stage, letting his hips and waist and chest moving separately from one another as if they wouldn’t even belong to the same body. Malik did not even bother fathoming how he managed to do this.

His eyes were glued on Altaїr's body and the way he let his long, slim arms dance along his long, long legs, as if his arms would lead his body like a conductor his orchestra. He was enchanted by the way, the muscles of his flat stomach worked and contracted. He witnessed him sliding to the ground like he was water splashing form a waterfall and pooling right there onto the stage. Once again, their eyes met and Malik bit down on his lips maybe a little bit too hard while Altair lolled there, having forgotten all his shame from before.

"Malik." A voice whispered near his right ear but Malik only waved at the person as if he was trying to shoo away a nasty fly. "Malik." Well, it did not work and this time it was Malik who needed to break apart again and look at the person on his right hand side. If it would’ve been Kadar again who wanted to nag him, he would’ve shoved him face first into the ground, but it was Desmond and for a moment, Malik was startled by the close proximity of this man's face to his own. He really looked like Altaїr, only that he did not. Malik couldn’t really grasp it, but there was something distinctively different with Desmond, which separated him from his twin-like cousin. It was not that his hair was shorter and darker or that his eyes were darker and hadn’t quite the shape of Altaїr's or that he was just a titbit taller than the young father. Those were details most people overlooked anyway. No, it was something in the way he moved, spoke, or looked at people.

"What's wrong?" Malik managed to mutter, even though his throat felt dry like the desert itself.

"I need to go." Desmond answered. "Something's happened at Altaїr's place. My boyfriend just called me; He's there with Altaїr's children. Could you drive him home when he's finished?"

Malik only wanted to keep watching the show. He did not want to interact with Desmond, he did not want to think, he just wanted to watch Altaїr dance, but duty called and he couldn’t dismiss this call. "It's alright. Go now." He replied and cleared his throat. After Desmond nodded and left again, he could have gone back to watching the show, but he did not. Malik slowly rose from his spot, avoiding looking at the stage again and crept out of the room. There was business he needed to attend to. Fucking Ezio.

Desmond was already gone when he entered the next room, but he did not care, he just moved towards the front entrance to sit on the soft couch standing right on the opposite wall of the checkroom and grabbed his phone from the right front pocket of his dress pants. When he dialed the number and pressed the phone to his ear he could already hear the audience from the next room cheer and applause like mad men. He was almost sure his brother was standing on the table and sometimes he envied Kadar for being so in tune with his emotions and that he was able to show them like he did. Malik on the other hand had learned from an early age on that he needed to be always in control of his mind and more importantly over his heart. He would love to state that he mastered both, but this sadly was not the truth and now he balled his left hand to a tight fist in anger because he couldn’t witness what was happening on the stage.

When Ezio picked up he could hear machines of unknown use roaring in the background and even before Ezio could greet him with his always-cheerful attitude, Malik lashed out on the Italian man. "What the hell did you do?!"

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Of course, Altaїr had noticed the moment when Malik left the show and a part of him had really felt sorry about it. It was strange. Even stranger was the feeling when he ended his show and was led through a narrow door into the backstage area once again by Arno who congratulated him all the way to the changing rooms again and again. He seemed almost more excited than Altaїr. Almost. Because Altaїr could, feel adrenalin rushing through his body and the endorphins dancing though his brain, making him numb for his sore muscles and aching back. He felt great. He felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes, after this long period of relinquishment and hardships. A part of him wanted to run out there again and just enjoy the moment of standing on stage and hearing the cheers of the guests. And yes, when he was back in the confinements of the backstage area and the changing room, he felt something he hadn’t felt for a very long time: pride.

Pride, not for having a son or for even having two sons. Not the same pride he always felt when he was watching his children in their sleep. It was the pride one felt when having accomplished something. He was proud of himself and he could hardly remember a time when he had felt like that before. Perhaps he never had.

"That was incredible!" Arno grinned when he helped Altaїr getting rid of his costume. He knew exactly what he was doing and Altaїr did not even mind that another man was undressing him with skilled fingers right now. He was way too exhausted to do it himself and with his left wrist, he rubbed the sweat from his forehead. His hair was drenched in the liquid and he only wanted to get home, take a shower, grab his sons and cuddle under the blanket.

"It could’ve been better." Altaїr smiled and took off the vest. "I've made a few mistakes and I was too fast sometimes."

"Oh come on! You can be proud of yourself once in a while. You're too harsh with yourself, Altaїr." The Frenchman laughed and helped him out of his pants to hang them on a nearby hanger. Altaїr was certain Malik would lock the costume away again when they were done here. He was about to sit down on one of the small stools in front of the mirrors in his boxer shorts, when a dark, deep voice startled him once again.

"Being self-critical is not a bad thing, Arno." The voice said and when Altaїr followed the sound to the door, he saw Malik Al-Sayf entering the room. Of course – and he did not even need to look at him to know that it was him. "If you're not critical with yourself, you can't excel yourself."

Arno rolled his eyes and hung the vest Altaїr gave him to the pants. "Yet he did a fantastic job and earned the right to lean back and enjoy himself for a moment." Arno then grinned, but turned to the door himself. "Need to go back to work anyway now, Boss." And with that he winked at Altaїr, who did not understand the hint, and left the room to do as he said.

Arno left them behind in a moment of uncomfortable silence, when Altaїr went back to looking down on his naked feet and Malik crossing his arms and looking at the costume, now hanging behind Altaїr on the wall.

"Well-" They both started and stopped again. Altaїr really had not the slightest clue why he suddenly felt so embarrassed, but he hadn’t forgotten the moment on stage when they locked eyes and he was almost certain that he had seen more in Malik's eyes then professional interest if his investment was paying off.

Malik mentioned him to go on speaking and so Altaїr did, while he already searched for his jeans. Desmond brought them here after Altaїr had changed before. "What did Desmond want?" Altaїr then asked even though this was not really, what he wanted to know.

"That’s why I'm here actually." Malik answered and shrugged his shoulders – something one could only rarely witness this man doing. "Desmond said his boyfriend called him because there was something going on at your house and that’s why he already left to take care of this. He asked me to drive you home."

Of course Altaїr jumped right into his jeans when he found them finally and pulled his shirt over his head. He did not even care that he wore it from back to front. The adrenalin and endorphins were gone. "What?!" He managed to yelp while he tried to force his clothes onto his body. He wouldn’t even mind running to Malik's car naked right now. He did not like having Shaun taking care of the boys. Not because he wouldn’t trust this man, he did. He really did trust him, no matter what a douchebag he was. But he did not like it anyway and now it was only all the more proof that this would not work out. "Did he say what's happened? Is there something wrong with my kids?"

Malik opened the door for him after he jumped into his sneakers and almost fell immediately over his untied shoelaces. "No." Malik stated with a sigh and followed the agitated father outside without even wasting any moment – and for that Altaїr was grateful. "But I believe your children are well."

"Why do you think that?" Altaїr snarled between his bared teeth when they stepped out the backdoor of the _Plan B_ and rushed through the alleyway.

"Because otherwise Desmond would have called by now."

But Altaїr's brain was already in panic-mode. What if the house was ablaze or something like that? What if there was a fire and what if he now lost the rest of his belongings? It would fit right into all of the things happening to him lately. He could not experience something good without it getting paid back seven times. He should’ve learned from his mistakes by now, but he obviously did not.

"Would he?" He growled, but he knew Malik was right. Desmond would’ve informed him already if there were anything with his children. God, he would’ve let Arno drag him from the stage, if something would've been wrong with his kids and he trusted that Shaun would take good care of them gremlins.

"Yes he would. Come now, you're running in the wrong direction. I would’ve thought you know by now where my car is parked." Malik then said and grabbed him by the biceps to drag him with him in the opposite direction. Altaїr did not even feel the freezing cold air outside and he did not bother with it either. He only wanted to get home as fast as possible and be with his children again to make sure they were alright and safe. Sure, they were afraid because their father wasn’t with them in such a disastrous situation.

Malik seemed on edge, when they arrived at his car and for a brief moment Altaїr felt as if Malik probably knew more than he was willing to tell the young father. It was only a matter of seconds that they got in the car and drove off, but during their drive to Altaїr's home, Altaїr clung to the door handle as if this would help in any way. Malik was a decent driver and under different circumstances, he would’ve enjoyed being driven around in such a fancy car (which he destroyed not oh so long ago). But not now. Not when his kids were potentially in danger right now. Yet he watched how the city lights were flashing all around them and when they needed to stop at a red light he began drumming his fingers on his left knee, bumping his leg up and down - that was until Malik finally put his right hand over his left and pushed his leg down to hold it still.

Malik's hand was hot on his own skin, but only for a second Altaїr glanced at him, finally very well aware of them being all alone in this car and on such close proximity too. He did his very best to suppress the memory of this moment on stage just a few minutes ago as it seemed now. Hell, he did not even know how late it was! "Calm down." Malik groaned, but he kept his gaze focused on the street and only then, Altaїr noticed his glasses. This guy really needed glasses to drive. He almost laughed. This seemingly perfect guy with his perfect suit and his perfect hair and his perfect car and his perfect shoes and his perfect life needed glasses to operate his car. Well, at least he did have this one weakness to separate him from the almighty gods, even though this could hardly calm him.

It was not long before the light turned green and Malik took away his hand again, but to Altaїr it felt like hours and then, when the car crossed the next intersection and turned left, he could already see his apartment building and almost jumped out of the car, when he spotted Desmond and Shaun and his children in front of the building right beside the old Mrs. Fitzgerald in her rain coat. There were people leaving and entering the building, seemingly all the different kinds of craftsmen judging by their different overalls. He could spot some of his neighbors (or at least he deduced they were his neighbors judging by their distressed faces and their few belongings they were clutching to) standing near the front stairs leading up to the entrance door, when Malik parked his car near Altaїr's family.

Altaїr jumped out of the car immediately as the car came to a halt and almost jumped his cousin and his kids, but he did not get the chance, because it was Darim who jumped him instead. "Daddy!" The boy yelped and threw his little body with such a force against his father's legs that Altaїr nearly stumbled. But he jumped right into action and picked the boy up to hold him tight and kiss his temple. He seemed to be alright, yet he was pale, just like Shaun (paler than his normal sickly British taint). "What happened?" Altaїr asked and gently brushed his thumb over Sef's cheek on Desmond's arm, so the baby would know his father was there - even though he was already sleeping. Sef could sleep absolutely everywhere, which was a plus. He only barely noticed that Malik had followed him to his family, but he did not even care about his boss now.

Altaїr could see (and hear) Mr. Alfonso standing right at the entrance door, cursing at one of the few men who were entering the building and he could spot another figure standing inside the entrance hall, probably arguing with the landlord, but Altaїr couldn’t see how the person looked, because they were somewhat hidden by the shadows and Mr. Alfonso's broad frame.

"I don’t know." Shaun answered with all honesty plastered over his face, when Altaїr decided to look at him again. "Those people knocked at your door an hour ago or so, told me to pack all the important stuff and get out of the building. They did not say why, but one of your neighbors said, that those people told them to get out because of water damage in the topmost floor."

"Water damage? And that’s why they all needed to get out?" Altaїr asked, his brows furrowed with a slight frown. He was confused to say the least, but on the other hand something like that shouldn’t really surprise him.

"Well, that’s what your neighbors said." Shaun shrugged his shoulders.

"They told me, there was a gas leak somewhere in the building, dearie." The old lady then said, while her face remained calm as usual, as if she was hardly impressed by all this turmoil.

"What the hell is going on?" Altaїr then sighed. "And why is even Mr. Alfonso not allowed to enter the building?" And where the fuck had Malik gone? Suddenly the guy had vanished right from the street, but his car was still there and he had not retreated back to it. A moment later, he could answer the question himself, when he watched Malik crossing the distance between the house and Altaїr with long strokes. He hadn’t even noticed how Malik went to the front door or at least to the building in those few moments he talked with his family.

"Seems you need to find hospitality somewhere else for a few days." Malik began, when he was near enough to not needing to shout. His glasses had vanished already, probably shoved into the front pocket of his suit jacket.

"What?" Altaїr gasped.

"I talked to the boss of those men and he said the house is not safe to stay in for a few days at the very least. There had been a gas leak in the flat right under yours and a leak in the water pipes in the topmost floor. The whole floor is flooded as you can guess and due to the old structure of the building those workers are adamant that it is not safe for the tenants to stay during their work." Malik explained with a serious but calm face and for a moment, Altaїr was almost sure he saw the hint of anger somewhere in the depths of his dark brown eyes. From the building, he could already hear the sound of a roto hammer being used on one of the walls. He knew the sound well after the time he spent working on the construction side.

"Oh my." The old lady sighed and brushed her fingers over her raincoat. She was clinging to her old leather bag, torn apart by age and excessive use and Altaїr felt guilty. The old lady had helped him so much since he was living here, but now he couldn’t do anything for her. She looked so small in the middle of the nightly street and reminded him on his grandma when she got sick.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Altaїr then asked, while Darim yawned against his neck and moaned that he was tired. The old lady smiled.

"Of course, dearie." She answered. "Don't you worry about this old lady here. I will visit my daughter and my grandsons." He was not sure if that was the truth and he did not believe that the old lady really had a family, but on the other hand, he did not know much about her, so what right would he have to question her? So he nodded a little and sighed. "But where will you and your precious children sleep?"

Desmond chimed in immediately, still wearing his uniform. "They'll stay with us." He smirked. "Like in the old times, right Darim?" Even though the old times were still pretty much up to date by now. Darim nodded, but he was already half asleep on his father's arms and couldn’t find the motivation to speak. Shaun did not seem as happy and Altaїr could understand this. The brit looked as if he was forced feed his very much hated bananas or as if someone spit in his breakfast tea. He knew he liked the kids, especially because Desmond loved it to have them around and that he was taking good care of them, when he needed to, but Altaїr could also understand that he would like it if he would have a little time alone with Desmond from time to time. He felt guilty because he was always intruding their life as a couple. So Malik's next words were like a light at the end of the tunnel.

"You and your kids can stay at my place for the time being. I believe it can be quite crowded in a simple apartment with five people around, especially when one of those is an infant. Mr. Hastings sure has work to attend to tomorrow, so I'll think we all should grant him a little rest." Altaїr had no clue why Malik would propose something like this. It was kind of weird for a boss proposing to his employee to stay some days at his house, right?

"Thank you." Altaїr then said, a little ashamed to say the least. "This is very kind of you, but I think we will be fine with Desmond." Even though he rather wanted to stay with Malik. He did not want Desmond and Shaun to fight again over him and his kids, like they did so often already. Desmond felt responsible for him, he knew that and that was why he would always have his younger cousin's back, even when he needed to fight with his lover because of him. Their last fight had been especially bad. He did not want this again.

"I insist." His boss said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He really seemed adamant and it was only Altaїr's false pride hindering him to accept the generous offer.

"We're fine." Desmond said from behind Altaїr, but Shaun took a deep breath and Altaїr finally gave up.

"It's okay Des. We'll stay with him. It's only for a few days right?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, dearies. Please tell me in the comments (or on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/niishiki) how you would like some more backstory in this fanfiction. If you would like some more backstory of the other characters and of course good old Altair I will add it into the next chapters or even write a whole chapter dedicated to one of the guys.


	8. we are all gay here

Altaїr woke up in heaven. He was pretty sure that he died somewhere between the moment he left the stage by the side of Arno and the moment he arrived in front of the building he was living in. There was no other way for him to explain the feeling of soft clouds underneath his strained back, or of the warm light shining on his face. He felt rested and relaxed and he could feel his son by his side, curled up to him into a little ball. When he opened his eyes, his gaze fell first on Darim's little, sleeping face and he noticed almost immediately, how relaxed he appeared to be. He felt comfortable and he looked so very much different than he did on their mattress in their apartment.

Softly he brushed his fingers through Darim's soft sand brown hair and planted a chaste kiss on his temple only to have his son snuggling closer. When he started to look around, he took in the white walls surrounding him and somewhat missed the ugly ass seventies wallpaper of his own flat. It was not Desmond's living room, that was for sure, but it took a moment for him to remember all the things that happened last night, after his show. After a short moment of hesitation from his cousin, Altaїr decided to accept Malik's generous offer, even though the child in his mind still wondered why. He didn’t do it so much because of Shaun - no, he couldn’t care less about Shaun to be quite honest - but for Desmond. He and Shaun probably would never get along, but Desmond had chosen this stupid prick and he seemed to be happy with Shaun. Maybe that was the reason why he did it.

The journey to Malik's home was a blur. He remembered parts of the way they drove through the city, but since he mainly focused on Sef in his lap, after Malik didn’t have the appropriate seat in his car, he hadn't had the chance to look around that much. Darim had fallen asleep in the car, so his main goal had been to get his children into the house and right into bed and thus he fell asleep himself, right after he tugged Darim in. He was still wearing his clothes now as a matter of fact, even though he wondered who tucked _him_ in.

Slowly he sat up in the big, comfy bed to have a proper look around. He didn’t get the chance last night, but now he was stunned. The room was much more simplistically furnished than he expected. His bed was a simple queen-sized bed with a plain wooden frame. No headboard, only the corpus, and a thick, heavenly soft mattress. To the left and right side of the bed stood one wooden crate each, looking a lot as if someone simply had put together some old wooden transport boxes or something like that. On the right one, right beside Altaїr was a simplistic reading lamp and an alarm clock, on the left a plant which Altaїr couldn’t really name. There was a large window right by his left side and a simple white curtain swaying softly in the slight breeze coming from outside through the ajar window. Even the floorboards were made of wood and Altaїr would never doubt that it was real wood and not that fake stuff most people had in their apartments nowadays.

The simplexes of this arrangement was quite nice and comfortable. He liked it here and it was even quite warm inside the room in spite of the window being open. The door to his right side was closed shut and he couldn’t hear a thing - at least nothing which told of life going on in the house already. A short glance to the alarm clock told him that it was already half past seven in the morning and his stomach nearly dropped. He overslept. He fucking overslept and now he would be too late to get Darim to kindergarten and would need to pay the fee _again_! Well, he didn’t even know how to get from here (wherever _here_ was) to the kindergarten! "Darim!" He murmured sleepily when he softly nudged his son against the shoulder, but Darim only scrunched up his little face and buried his nose deeper into the cushions. "Darim, come on buddy, we overslept. You need to go to kindergarten now…"

Sometimes Altaїr was not the best in keeping track of dates or something like that. He really, really wasn’t - but his son was. "It's Saturday daddy…" The little guy moaned and only crawled deeper underneath the blanket of this warm, fuzzy nest. "We don’t need to get up yet…"

Altaїr paused for but a moment, but his son was right. Of course he was. All the chaos of last night's events confused the shit out of him it seemed and thus he fell back into the soft mattress again and flung his arms around Darim as if the child was nothing but an extra-large teddy bear. "You stink, Daddy." He moaned again and fought a little against his stinking, annoying father. Well, no lie there.

"I know." Altaїr groaned. "But I don’t wanna get up."

"Don’t be such a baby, Daddy. You really, really stink…"

He could hardly blame his son for kicking him out of bed. He wouldn’t like to be cuddled by a man covered and smelling of sweat either. Plus there was another child he needed to annoy with his presence. Sef was seemingly sleeping peacefully in his little cradle near the door. He couldn’t even really remember anymore when Malik put the cradle in here, but he could recall that he explained during the drive that he still had Tazim's old cradle - that was it then probably.

With a slight yawn, he pulled Darim again a little tighter, smooched his helpless kid and finally got up. Darim almost immediately curled himself into a little ball again. Poor thing. At least Altaїr tugged him in again, before he finally turned to look for little Sef, but the little guy was asleep still too. Yet Altaїr stood for a moment and simply watched him. He didn’t often get the chance to do exactly that, but now he found himself in awe of what he had created in a moment of drunken pleasure and stupidity. Of course, he should've known better back then. Once again, Maria had told him she was on birth control and once again, she fooled him into not using a condom because she didn’t like the feeling. Well. His sons sure were the luckiest outcome of an accident he ever knew.

He felt a slight grin tugging on the corners of his mouth when Sef twitched in his sleep as if he was dreaming - and probably he was. The little guy looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to disturb him, so he quietly left the room and closed the door behind him only to find himself on a foreign hallway. The wooden floorboards felt nice and warm under his naked feet, after he forgot his socks at the _Plan B_.

It really was silent inside the house and Altaїr took his time to adjust to the unknown location. To his right he could spot a few other doors to the side of the hallway and guessed that at least one of those rooms must be a bathroom. He had no clue if he really was allowed to use the bathroom to shower, but on the other hand, he was Malik's guest, so … yeah?

"Bathroom." He murmured and took another look around. If he would turn left, he would inevitably find the staircase leading up to the first floor, at least that he still remembered from last night, so he turned right and walked on. "Bathroom… Where the hell could you possibly be?"

He didn’t like being in a stranger's home or anywhere he wasn’t familiar with the surroundings. Sometimes - he guessed - he was still this shy little thing he was as a child. The design of the house seemed modern, but very plain and reminded him of Maria's home in Boston. He was only a few times at her place, mostly when her parents hadn't been there, but the few times he had been there, he had felt out of place. Like an alien from a whole other planet.

Maria's parents did have money. The Thorpes were a wealthy family and thus they were always distrustful when it came to people like Altaїr, with no real family at all. By the time, he met Maria he already moved out of the Miles home and was living with Rauf and his family. Yet another reason for the Thorpes to be skeptical about the tramp that wooed their innocent daughter.

Yeah, he guessed in those stories the boy was always the one at fault. Of course he would never say that he was completely without fault in all of this - but of course he was not the only one who did something wrong (only that most people would suspect otherwise, he guessed).

It was not easy at all to decide which door to open and which was better to be left closed. He had no clue which one was the bathroom and which the maid's bedchambers or Tazim's nursery! Why weren't there signs attached to the doors for all those strangers Malik liked to invite to his fucking slumber parties? So Altaїr had no other chance than to press his ear against the doors and to listen very carefully for any movement what so ever. Then again, he guessed he wouldn’t hear something anyway if it was a bedroom and the owner was asleep other than the rustling of the bed sheets.

This was getting ridiculous. Everyone who would come to see him shuffling around like this and making such a fuss would think he was a mad man. So he finally scooped up all that was left of his courage and bravery after years of running face first into thick brick walls and opened the first door carefully.

It was not the bathroom. To his luck, it was no bedroom either. It was a drawing room.

There was an easel standing right in the middle of the room with a small stool right in front of it and a half finished painting on canvas and on a small table next to it the color pallet and brushes in an old glass jar filled with some kind of liquid to keep them clean (probably). The sun shone into the quadratic space of the room through two large windows right on the opposite side of the door. The windows were closed but the air didn’t smell stuffed so he guessed someone was opening them on a regular basis, even though he couldn’t see Malik sitting here drawing like that. But on the other hand what _did_ he really know about this man? It sure was quite possible that Malik was interested in art like this.

Altaїr stepped farther into the room and almost forgot his task of searching for the bathroom so he could take a shower and then get near his children again. The half-finished picture was of a vase of flowers, a simple still-life as it seemed, but the object that had been drawn was nowhere around anymore and the small table where the vase had stood as evident by the picture was now empty. Perhaps Malik didn’t have the time to finish it and the flowers had died in the meantime. Well, he was a busy man.

There were several other canvases leaning on the walls all around and a few different supplies he couldn’t even name. Altaїr never had a thing for drawing and he wasn’t really good with a brush either. Perhaps he was too twitchy (just like Sef) to draw anything at all. Darim on the other hand, even now in kindergarten, exceeded in drawing. Altaїr took a moment of his time to really look at the painting and he was really quite impressed with his boss's drawing skills.

"Well, good morning." Altaїr almost got a major heart attack when he was startled by Malik's deep voice, which was still a bit husky so early in the morning. He almost expected him to wear his usual dark suit and tie, but when he jumped and turned to the door, again Malik stood there with messy hair, long loose blue-checkered pants (which seemed a bit too long for his legs), naked feed and a simply black T-Shirt right in the doorway.

"Holy crap you really are a normal human being." Altaїr replied without even wasting a second to think before he spoke.

"Yeah I am." Malik simply stated, his face as neutral as ever (well not as ever, because Altaїr remembered that Malik's face hadn't looked all that neutral last night during his show). "And you look like ass. Go on take a shower, you smell as if you have slept in the gutter!"

Altaїr couldn’t help but grin a little. "Then show me where your bathroom is in this palace of yours." The face Malik made when he rolled his eyes satisfied him immensely and he didn’t even know exactly why, but finally Malik gestured him to follow and lead the way across the hallway until they reached the last door on the left. "There you go. I've already placed a few clothes for you in there." And with that, Malik left him to his own devices.

The bathroom was not as big as he originally expected it to be but still a lot bigger than his own back in the dumpster he lived in. He still had no real answer what was happening at his home, only what Malik told him and his instincts told him that this was not the whole truth. But first, before he would try to solve this mystery, he would take a shower and that he did. The steaming hot water felt heavenly pleasant on his naked skin, when he finally closed the door of the glass cubicle that was Malik's shower behind him. He loved those kind of showers and Desmond's was quite alike this one. But he could only keep on dreaming about owning one of those too someday.

For a long moment, he just stood there and enjoyed the feeling of the water drizzling down on him like rain. Warm water. Warm water and he didn’t need to worry about it growing cold all too fast. Yet he didn’t want to waste more water than necessary, so he began scrubbing himself free from the straining last night and when he finally left the bathroom again freshly dressed in some lose pants and a shirt Malik provided for him he felt almost like a whole new person.

He could only suspect to find Malik downstairs, but before he went down, he looked after his kids once more only to find Sef wide-awake by now. The little guy had lost his pacifier (or unplugged it) and made now a few gurgling noises when he noticed his father. Darim on the other hand still slept like a rock, so he only scooped up Sef and grabbed the bag Shaun managed to take with them last night, fully stuffed with diapers and sleepers and of course bottles and baby formula. The Brit was useful after all, it seemed.

"Now what do we have here?" Altaїr murmured when Sef snuggled against his freshly showered and very good smelling daddy. No accusing eyes this time. So he probably just needed to cover himself in perfume for his little one being satisfied with him altogether it seemed. "Hungry? I bet you're hungry. Come on now, we will feed you real quick, buddy."

He was always lucky when Darim got the chance to really sleep until he was well rested, because at home he didn’t get the chance very often for his father often needed to work on the weekends to. Well, no. This was in the past. From now on, they would have an almost normal life and Altaїr was grateful for that. So he closed the door on his way out once more and approached the staircase. There was a heavenly smell of scrambled eggs and bacon coming from downstairs and for a moment, he could feel his mouth watering. Freshly roasted coffee beans were filling his nostrils and persuade him to move quicker down the stairs while Sef was nuzzling his little nose into the crown of his neck. He loved that feeling. He loved it to have Sef close by his heart even after all the things that happened after his birth. He would never give his baby son the fault at those things, but he did know that Darim sometimes did. He was still so little and he still understood so little. All he knew was that _Mommy_ disappeared when Sef had been born. He probably too remembered that _Mommy_ had always been angry during the time she had his baby brother in her belly, even though he was only three years old at that time.

It was pleasantly warm downstairs when Altaїr reached the end of the stairs and the first rays of sunlight shone through the glass door inside the hallway. To the left and right hand side were two doorways in front of him, two behind him and one normal door, which led to another room (probably the basement).

To his right hand side the kitchen was located (he could tell by the smell and the noise someone made with seemingly various pans and pots), so he turned that way, but stopped halfway towards the doorway when his eye caught the framed pictures on the wall right next to the doorway to the kitchen. Malik didn’t seem exactly like a man to hang family portraits really anywhere. His whole house seemed so _clean_ without any knick-knacks around, yet he didn’t seem like a man who would draw paintings of flowers in his free time either.

On one of the photos, he could spot Kadar, Malik's baby brother, and couldn’t help but grin when a nearly toothless grin was flashed at him. Kadar was no more than seven years at best on that picture, sitting in a large tire swing, seemingly very proud over the loss of two of his baby teeth. That, Altaїr thought, made him almost sympathetic again, because lil' Altaїr had always been absolutely horrified when he lost one of his baby teeth, because he always thought they would never grow back and that he was damned to live the life of a toothless person or that he needed to wear fake teeth for the rest of his life, only able to eat soup for all eternity.

Then there was a wedding photo hanging right above the one of Kadar. It was of course Malik dressed in a black tuxedo with a white lily in the front pocket of his jacket. He didn’t really smile – or he _did_ but it didn’t really reach his eyes. It was hard to tell by his looks alone how old he was on that picture, but the woman standing right by his side was at best twenty. She too had this fake smile plastered on her face, but she was stunningly beautiful. Her hair was black as the night, just like Malik's, but her taint was a little bit lighter than his, even though her eyes almost appeared black so dark was the color of them. Her wedding gown was white as snow, but it was not like those over-exaggerated ball gowns he always saw in the windows of bridal shops. It was much more laid back, more natural but very fitting for her. Her face was like the face of the sphinx, Altaїr caught himself thinking. It was hard to tell what was going on in her head during that moment, but Altaїr didn’t get this warm fuzzy feeling in his guts looking at the picture, like he always got when he looked at his parents wedding photo or his grandparents or even the one the Miles had in their living room.

There was no love and that was visible.

Well, she looked like she was of Arabian heritage too, so maybe it was an arranged marriage. He didn’t like the look on Malik's face. Not a tiny bit. "Oh there you are. I was already wondering if you drowned in the shower." And again, Malik startled the young father for the second time this morning. This time he at least didn’t jump at this but wondered how he managed to not hear his approaching footsteps at all.

Malik was still wearing the same clothes he wore a few minutes before, but he seemed a little more awake than before. The mug in his hand filled with steaming hot coffee told him why that was.

"Is that your wife?" Altaїr asked even though it was quite obvious, but Malik didn’t seem to care about that stupid question and only did his best to not make a grimace, when he sighed: "Yeah. That's Adha."

"So, then, where is she? I mean, is she here? Does she know you’ve brought a stranger home?" Maria would’ve slapped him so hard he would’ve heard the bells of Acre bellowing in his head for days.

"She's dead. Car crash." Malik simply stated as if it was nothing.

"I'm sorry." Altaїr murmured right away, but Malik only waved at him and brushed it off it seemed. "It's in the past. It happened four years ago now, shortly after Tazim's birth. So I know the situation you are in right now." He replied and nodded towards lil' Sef.

That really took Altaїr by surprise, but he regained his self-control fast. "Yeah, only that you did have a nanny for your child." He snarled, but Malik only rolled his eyes again and gestured towards the door.

"I did. But I wished I could’ve been home with my son more often. I know what it means when you're raised by a nanny instead of your own parents. Your children are lucky to have their father by their side. It is a lonely life when you know that the person looking after you is only doing it because they are getting paid for it."

Altaїr followed him into the kitchen. Well, he guessed that Malik was right with that. There was no love with people getting paid for taking care of your children. Of course, there were exceptions, but they were rare. "Your son doesn’t seem to like that you have so little time for him." He remembered the incident when they first met and Malik sighed, turning to the stove right ahead. Altaїr expected a cook taking care of all this, but Malik had been alone in the kitchen.

"I know, but he needs to learn how to deal with it, even though I would like it to be different. I don’t even trust his nanny."

"So why do you employ her then?"

Malik went back to stir in a pan, while Altaїr moved to the breakfast bar behind Malik to prepare Sef's bottle. "Because I don’t trust any of them. I'm sure _you_ understand, right? We don't trust other people with our children."

"I trust Desmond and Shaun." Altaїr shrugged his shoulders.

"Because they are family." He couldn’t deny that. "Desmond told me you were raised by his parents, is that right?"

"Yes~" Altaїr smirked when he started to shake the bottle filled with baby formula and water, while his baby seemingly got impatient. "My parents died when I was just born. First, I was handed around the family in Syria, but then Desmond and my grandmother adopted me and took me to the US. She died when I was eleven and thus I was handed to Desmond's parents, but I never really got along with his father. He hated my father; I guess that was the reason."

"Yeah well, family, right? We are nothing without them, but we are even worse with them." Malik then chuckled and Altaїr silently agreed, while feeding little hungry Sef.

 

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"I really don’t like this." Desmond sighed into his coffee mug and finally he got his stubborn boyfriend to put down his newspapers to look at him with one raised eyebrow over the rim of his glasses.

" _What_?" Shaun moaned and crumbled the paper with his fingers. It seemed he didn’t want to give up just yet, but clung to his newspaper like to a shield against all evil – namely Desmond Miles.

"Well for once that Altaїr is staying with our boss until he can get back into his own apartment. It's not right!" Desmond had mixed feelings about this and he didn’t even know exactly why that was.

"I don’t understand your problem." Shaun then sighed and finally put away his newspapers while Desmond leant back in his chair.

"Well! For once, that Malik is our _boss_. You don’t sleep at your boss's house!"

"I think it is nice of him that he suggested it."

"Yeah… but I don’t want Altaїr to get into trouble."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh Shaun, don’t be so naive!" Desmond groaned and ruffled through his messy dark hair. "You know that Malik is gay, right?"

"So what? You are gay, I am gay. We are all gay together here. So what exactly is your problem? Do you really think that he will attack Altaїr and … I don’t know, rape him or something, just because he is gay?"

"Well… no … but I mean … It's a possibility, right? Altaїr is not ugly…"

"Then why did I never rape him by now? He looks almost exactly like you, so I would be your most likely candidate! I already confused him with you a number of times! You don’t even know how often I already grabbed his ass because I thought he was you!"

Desmond made a grimace at this. "Oh I know." He snarled. "Altaїr always complained about it, when you did something like that. He called you _the creepy old ass-grabber_."

"Hey it is not my fault that you are looking so much alike!" Shaun frowned, but Desmond couldn’t help but grin a little. It was quite funny in all honesty. "But that is not the real reason why you are worried." The brit than stated and looked at him with a serious face. "So tell me what's wrong. We both know that Altaїr is very much capable of fighting off any aggressor that will try to get into his pants."

Desmond took a deep breath – even though it sounded more like an exhausted sigh. "I don’t know." He murmured and when Shaun lifted his other eyebrow, too he sighed – this time for real. "Well, I think there is something fishy going on with his apartment and stuff. The other tenants hadn’t noticed a thing, right? They would’ve known when the topmost floor would’ve been flooded, right? Other than this, the other employees of the _Plan B_ are like Hyenas. They are already suspicious because Altaїr got his own big debut like this and if they start to suspect him of having an affair with our boss they will make his life a living hell, trust me, Shaun. It won't be pretty."

"So what are you proposing? Should we go and take him out of Malik's house to take him and the kids with us again? Listen, Des, I don’t have a problem with it when they are staying the night every now and then, but we don’t know when his flat will be inhabitable again. They at least have warm beds by Malik."

He was right, Desmond knew that. He was not delusional like this and he knew that this was the best option they got, even though he didn’t trust all of this. Well, he didn’t have exactly any reason to distrust Malik, he was a nice boss and he took good care of his employees, but he also knew that Malik and his brother weren't just ordinary business men and that it was dangerous getting all too close to them or too involved in their business. "I don’t know." He sighed. "I just don’t want him to get hurt again."

 

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The kids were (reluctantly) playing outside in Malik's garden when Altaїr sat down again on the chair at the kitchen table with his baby boy in his arms. Sef was already fast asleep after his breakfast and a little bit of snuggling with his daddy. Being a baby must be a nice thing. He watched how Malik put away the last remnants of the breakfast they had together and since now, he hadn’t seen even a hint of there being a cook or really any employees around the house. It was weird how a man like Malik wouldn’t have staff. He felt a little tense and his back and shoulders still hurt after last night, so he rubbed his neck as good as he could with little Sef on his arm.

"Back problems?" Malik murmured when he glanced over his shoulder towards him and Altaїr just brushed it off.

"Yeah. I have a habit of crawling around on all fours searching for dead opossums in my flat." He smirked and got a low chuckle from Malik this very same instant. "Why don’t you have any employees around the house? I always thought you must have a while army of cooks, maids and maintenance people."

"I do." Malik smirked. "But they are not here yet. The maid will come this afternoon and the cook has his free day. I don’t trust them being around in the house at all times."

Altaїr decided to let go of the topic for he already knew he wouldn’t get any answer that would really satisfy him. He knew though that there was a reason why Malik wouldn’t trust his staff - and he also knew that Malik wouldn’t tell him the real reason. But it felt nice just sitting here with his son while his other son was playing outside with his- "Do you even know that Tazim is Darim's new arch nemesis?"

Now he got Malik's full attention because the other father turned around to look at him as if an elephant just walked into the room. "Pardon?"

"Hey, I don’t know why either!" Altaїr laughed. "But Darim decided to hate your son for whatever reason."

"Should I be worried that your son will try to drown my son in a puddle?"

"No, I don’t think so. Darim couldn’t hit a fly." He smirked and Malik then shrugged his shoulders. There was no reason to be upset that their children didn’t like one another. Kids simply were like this and perhaps they would even befriend each other when they would spend a little more time together. "I guess you don’t know either when I can get back into my apartment, right?" Altaїr then sighed and ruffled through his short hair, but Malik only frowned a little on this, as if he didn’t even want to think about the possibility of Altaїr moving back into his apartment (but Altaїr was sure that this was not the case).

"It will be a few days I think." Malik stated and leant back against the kitchen counter. "You could use a few new clothes. Wanna go shopping?"

He blinked, but Malik suddenly seemed to feel uncomfortable under his stare. "Nah, don’t have enough money." He sighed.

"Well, I could of course lend you a bit of money."

"So that my debts will be even bigger?" Malik became silent and Altaїr could see his left hand twitch a little before he straightened his posture – back to the serious faced Mr. Al-Sayf it seemed.

"That's not what I meant. I have no interest in raising your debts to have power over you. But I do understand." He replied then and shortly glanced to his window where they could spot Darim and Tazim running around in the slightly wet grass. "It seemed as if one of my friends bought your apartment complex yesterday, that was why the workers were there."

" _What_?!" Altaїr exclaimed and woke up baby Sef with this outburst.

"He was looking for another investment and I told him, in what kind of desolated condition your house was, so he bought it from this prick Mr. Alfonso and kicked him out."

"When? I mean – What? When did this all happen?"

"Yesterday." Malik repeated and shrugged his shoulders. "Somewhat during the day. He plans on renovating the whole building as fast as he can, so his workers will be working pretty much twenty for seven now."

"No, no, no." Altaїr groaned. "You will tell me now exactly how this is even possible. There is no way that something like this can happen during a few hours!" Even though he really did recall hearing Mr. Alfonso argue with someone in his flat when he left for work yesterday, but he thought it to be his wife as always.

"He has his ways of doing stuff like this."

"Is he part of the Mob?" Altaїr then blurted out. Now that he had seen Malik's home, he couldn’t really think of him being a member of the mafia himself. He expected more extravagant interior for this, but no matter how neutral Malik's face now was, his eyes told him how uncomfortable he felt.

"No." He said, but _yes_ he meant and that they knew both.

"Are… I mean … I wanted to say …" - Again with this fucking stammering! – "Are you … part of the Mob?"

"No." He said and shoved his left hand into the front pocket of his loose pants, while Altaїr broke out in sweat immediately.

"W-what about, this Connor-guy? I-I mean … you _do_ know he is our sons kindergarten teacher, right?"

"I am aware of that." Malik replied calmly.

"Then … Is he …?"

"No."

Well shit.

Altaїr stood up from his stool without even thinking about it. "I guess you want to visit your cousin now, right?" Malik asked, but his face made sure that he expected him to come back here again later that day.

"Y-Yes." Altaїr stammered and grabbed Sef a little bit closer.

"Good, because you do know that you have work tonight, right?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Yes." Malik replied, his face the same serious mask he always wore around his establishment and while the man called for Darim to get ready, and while Altaїr himself got ready, putting on just a jacket and his shoes and leaving his lose pants on, thousands and thousands of thoughts were racing through his mind.

Malik drove them through the city with their children blabbering on the backseat and Sef resting against his father's chest once again. They didn’t talk during their drive to Desmond's flat and he didn’t even thank Malik when he got out of the car.

"I'll pick you up later." Malik simply stated and Altaїr nodded, before he simply entered the building with Darim by his hand and took the elevator to get to Desmond's flat. His heart was still beating way too fast in his chest when his cousin opened the door and he knew that all the blood was drenched from his face, while Darim was running inside to nag Uncle Shaun like he always would.

"What's wrong?" Desmond immediately asked when he dragged his younger cousin inside the flat, his face a grimace of worry and anxiety seeing Altaїr so distressed. Oh, he thought, the day had begun so nicely. He had thought he finally did something right in his life.

"It seems that I have debts by a member of the Mob…" Altaїr then gasped.

He did fuck up. Again.


	9. teddy

He felt small and didn’t really know what to do or what was expected of him, when he got out of the black car, clutching his trusted teddy ( _Norbert_ ) which was once bigger than he himself. The teddy was his companion for as long as he could remember and though his classmates would laugh at him for still using it, he now clung to it like to a shield against all the evil in the world, which he, only eleven years of age, still couldn’t really comprehend.

He was taken from his home on the outskirts of town early this Monday morning. It was a rainy day, but there was already someone holding an umbrella over his head when he slowly crawled out of the large space that was the backseat of the car. The booster seat was new – at least it smelled like it was new – and the driver, his Uncle Bill, didn’t seem all that happy to have it installed in the back of his car again, after his own son was already sixteen and didn’t need a booster seat anymore. He didn’t question where he got it or how he got it so fast, otherwise, Altaїr would need to suspect that all of this had been planned beforehand and that he was the only one who didn’t know what was going on at all.

With large eyes Altaїr looked up to the man, his uncle, when William Miles finally gestured towards the door of the house they stood in front of, after he had parked the car in the driveway, right in front of the garage. It was not his first visit to the house - the white painted façade was familiar, just like the old apple tree in the backyard, which his cousin always liked to climb on - but this time it was not just a visit.

Bill held the umbrella, a large black one, in his left hand, so the little boy by his left side would be sheltered from the rain, while in his right hand he held the little suitcase, which belonged to Altaїr. It was no real suitcase, not a suitcase like adults would use, oh no. It was a rather tiny one with brown leather patches on the edges and leather straps holding the red-checkered thing closed. There was a yellow bunny drawn (Felix was his name) lounging on the front of the suitcase. His grandmother helped him stuff his things inside the suitcase before. That was only a few days ago and then Altaїr didn’t really understand why he needed to pack his things. Of course, for a small moment he had feared his grandmother would kick him out because she didn’t love him anymore and he even asked her if they would go on a trip together, on which she stated that it was best always to be prepared for going on an adventure. So they did prepare him for a possible adventure.

Now a part of him was quite angry, that she didn’t tell him. Nobody told him. Nobody warned him and nobody brace him for what was about to happen. And now he was still in shock.

"Altaїr, come on." Bill murmured. His mood today was not the best, just like Altaїr's and when the eleven-year-old boy finally curled his fingers into the fabric of Bill's black jacket, the man snorted – but he didn’t remove the tiny fingers. Altaїr hadn’t spoken a single word since the incident and he hated how all those people would fuss about him since they arrived at his home.

He liked the Miles, especially his older cousin Desmond, but he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home, only that home didn’t exist anymore. Home was now gone, just like his grandma. The front door of the house opened and he could already hear his aunt greeting them. She only stepped aside to let them in to shelter them from the heavy rain and while Bill put aside his wet umbrella and hung his jacket on the coat rag, Margret Miles crouched down in front of her nephew. "Altaїr." She said but it didn’t sound like someone just saying his name. The way she said it was full of remorse and pity and sadness and Altaїr didn’t like that. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Altaїr didn’t answer her, he just looked down on the ground and his wet shoes. His grandmother just bought them for him recently, after he begged and pleaded for weeks to get them. All the kids in his school had those shoes. Now he rather wanted to have his granny back. He shrugged his shoulders, when his aunty gently grabbed his chin with her soft, soft hands. "I know it's hard on you, sweetie." She then said and Altaїr would’ve loved to laugh in her face. Hard. How would she even know? "But we will take good care of you, I promise. Desmond helped to arrange your new bedroom, its right next to his. Why don’t you have a look yourself?"

And that he did.

Altaїr didn’t like being left to his own devices in this house. He didn’t feel like this was now his new home, no matter how much his aunt would try to make him as comfortable as possible. His new room was quite nice and he recognized it as his aunt's old sewing room. He felt bad for her to put away her stuff. He always liked to watch her sew and to feel all those different kinds of fabrics lying around all over the place. Most of his costumes he did wear in kindergarten or during a few of his dance-class's performances were made by her. The Peter Pan costume she made him two years ago was still his favorite, but he wouldn’t fit it anymore.

He was no tall child and he didn’t really grow that fast, but even he grew and that he didn’t like. He would rather stay little.

The room was not all that big, it was smaller than his old one but it was more than enough. He noticed that they even bought a few new toys for him, neatly stacked on a small shelf above his bed. They really did their best to make him feel at home, to make him feel welcome. Yet he hated it. A little lost Altaїr slowly put his suitcase on the bed and sat down on it, still holding on to his teddy. Like this, he stayed until Desmond came home from school, exited to have his baby cousin here, but even his presence didn’t make it any better.

This first day was hard on him. He refused to eat when they all sat down for dinner, even after Desmond took all those nasty vegetables he hated so much on his own plate. All he did was shoving his food around with the fork.

"Boy." Bill said. He rarely really used his name and Altaїr thought it was because he didn’t like the sound of it. He knew his uncle didn't like his father, though Altaїr never really met his father. He had died only a few months after he was born after all. However, his uncle had loved his little sister dearly, that was at least what his grandma told him. He never got over the fact that his sister Maud would stay in Syria for this man instead of coming back home after a few years as planned. Perhaps he even made Altaїr personally responsible for his sister's death.

Altaїr looked up to the man. Grey hairs were already mingling in his dark hair and his beard. He always thought his uncle had nice eyes and a nice booming voice, but sometimes he really frightened him. He looked a lot like Altaїr's grandpa.

"It won't make anything better when you're not eating, boy. It won't bring back your granny if you starve yourself." – "Dad!" Desmond moaned. Each of them said on a different side of the quadratic table and Desmond said right to his left, while Bill sat right opposite of him, looking shortly to his son.

"No, Desmond. He needs to learn that-"

"Just leave him alone, alright? Gosh, dad, you're so insensitive! If he's not hungry he doesn’t need to eat."

"I don’t want him to get hungry later when he needs to sleep."

"Oh for Christ's sake, dad! I will personally make him a sandwich if he gets hungry, now leave him be." Altaїr lowered his gaze on his plate again and the mountain of food he would never be able to eat, even though it smelled absolutely delicious. He noticed the soft smile tugging at the corners of his aunt's mouth out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t really say why that was. Perhaps she was proud of her son for standing up for his little cousin like that.

It was much later that day and it was already dark in Altaїr's room, when he slowly crept out of his bed. He couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t work. He was hungry and he felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. One short glance to his clock told him that it was only nine thirty PM and that his aunt and uncle were probably still awake. From Desmond's room he could hear his voice and bet that his cousin was on the phone with someone. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he grabbed his teddy tighter and slowly crept out of the room only to knock on Desmond's door and let himself in.

His cousin sat cross-legged on his bed, his phone pressed to his ear and his cheeks and ears burning red, but he paused for a moment when he saw his little cousin. "Hold on a sec." Desmond told the other person on the phone and covered the speaker of his phone with his hand. "Are you hungry buddy?" He smiled when he got up. Altaїr only nodded and again looked down on his naked feet. Desmond would stand by his promise of personally making him a sandwich if he was hungry and thus his cousin ended the call swiftly only to walk down with him into the kitchen.

While Desmond was rustling with the plastic back the bread was in, Altaїr stood by the half open kitchen door. He could see the light of the television from the living room across the hallways flickering on the walls, though the hallway and living room were already dark.

"He's grieving, Bill." He heard the soft voice of his aunt, but his uncle snorted.

"We are all grieving, Margret. He cannot keep up this attitude. He needs to go back to school in a few days and then he better behave like normally again."

"He will not." His aunt sighed. "He is just a little boy and no machine, Bill. He won't behave like nothing had happened. Just let him grieve in his own time. He just lost his grandmother, Bill. Your mother raised him after all, she was like his mother."

"She was _my_ mother too." Bill then groaned.

"Yes, but you are no child anymore. He lost his parents, then he lost his grandpa and now he lost his granny. Give him time to accustom to this new situation. You're asking for too much of him."

"Don’t listen to him." Desmond softly said when he crouched down in front of him, a plate with a freshly made tuna sandwich in his hand for him to take. He even cut off the crust and munched on it. Altaїr hadn’t even heard him while he listened to his aunt and uncle. Reluctantly he took the sandwich from his cousin when Desmond ruffled through his sand brown hair. "Dad doesn't mean it like this, you know? He's a lot like grandpa, you know tough on the outside but soft as melted butter on the inside. He is just a big teddy, like Norbert here. He really likes you, Altaїr; don’t get fooled by his attitude. He is sad too, you know? I mean, of course, we are all sad, but you two have a lot in common."

Altaїr thought that Desmond might be right, after all Bill too had lost his father and mother, the people, which raised Altaїr, and he lost his baby sister, Altaїr's mother. "He hates me…" Altaїr then sobbed, even though it was quite hard while munching on his delicious sandwich.

"No, no, no." Desmond whispered when he took him into his arms as soon as Altaїr had finished his meal. "He doesn’t hate you, buddy." He then promised, but Altaїr did not believe him, even when Desmond took him by the hand and promised that he could sleep in his bed tonight. The thought that Bill Miles hated his guts only for being the child of a man he had hated so much, never left Altaїr in the years that were to come and things would only get rougher as soon as Desmond moved out two years after their grandma's death.

"Altaїr!" Bill Miles yelled from the end of the staircase, his face red with fury, when his nephew slowly approached him. Altaїr had been minding his own business in the kitchen, when his uncle came home from work and immediately started cursing and yelling for him.

"Whaaaat?" Altaїr moaned. "What did I do wrong this time?" He was fifteen and there wasn’t all that much left of the shy little thing he used to be when he moved in with his relatives. Of course, he really liked his aunty and Desmond, but with his uncle Bill, it still was not easy. It didn’t even take a second when Bill looked at him that his eyes shot to Altaїrs right eyebrow and then to his freshly blue dyed hair.

"What the fuck is this?!" Bill exclaimed. By now his hair had completely turned grey and his aunty always joked about it being Altaїr's fault – but Altaїr would suspect it was Desmond who gave his father grey hair. They both weren't all that easy to handle, Altaїr knew that pretty well. They weren't as bad as those horrible teenagers one would see on _Doctor Phil_ , using drugs or drinking alcohol or impregnating some teenage girl and ruining their lives with it, but they were still a hand full. Two years ago his beloved older cousin had come out of the closet. A part of him already suspected him being gay, even though it still came to him as a surprise when Desmond introduced his boyfriend Shaun to the then thirteen-year-old Altaїr. And of course, just like Bill Miles hated Umar Ibn-La'Ahad's guts, he hated Shaun Hasting's guts for taking away his big brother.

"What?" Altaїr asked, his face as innocent as possible, before Bill grabbed his hair. Altaїr knew that it probably looked violent how Bill grabbed his head only to have a look at his hair and then his freshly pierced eyebrow, but he in fact was not rough at all. Bill was always careful not to hurt him – presumably, so Altaїr would not go running to his wife complaining about him. "What?!" Altaїr repeated, before his uncle stepped back.

"This!" He exclaimed pointing at his nephew. "When did you get this piercing, Altaїr? And who allowed you to maim yourself like this?!"

"Well-"

"Don’t tell me." Bill then sighed. "It was Desmond, right?" It was not exactly new that his cousin would fake his dad's signature. He did so before when Altaїr was fourteen and begged his cousin to give him the allowance to pierce his ears.

"Well-"

"And what's with your hair? Oh, I hope it will wash out! When did you even have the time to do this?!"

"Well-"

"You skipped class again, right?

"You see-"

"Don’t even try bothering with making excuses. Your teacher already told me! She called me at work, again, Altaїr!"

"Then why do you ask?" Altaїr moaned and crossed his arms in front of his chest frowning. He hated those unnecessary discussions with his uncle. "Just leave me alone, okay? I had a rough day!"

"Oh well excuse me then, boy!" Bill snorted. "Didn’t know how hard it is to throw away your future and maiming your body! I thought it is against the Islamic believes to get pierced or your hair dyed or- Oh no, don’t tell me you already got a tattoo as well!"

"I'm not Muslim, Uncle Bill!" Altaїr then growled. He was getting so tired of those stupid lectures and stereotypes. "You should know that! Or are you too suspecting that I am a terrorist and that I will blow up this house? I am so tired of this shit!"

"Don’t give me that attitude Altaїr! You are behaving like a six-year-old child since granny died! You can't run around skipping classes, getting into fights, getting piercings all over your body without legal allowance and getting into trouble all the time! Someday the police will take you home!"

"So why do you even care?" He was furious and foaming with rage. This man could not be serious! "You are not my father, so stop behaving like you are! You never cared for me, so don’t act like you are worried! You only worry about your reputation! You are frightened I could cast a shadow over your perfect little life after your only son already disgraced the family in being gay! I wish I could just leave like Desmond! I can't stand this anymore! I hate you!"

Bill was a tough guy, just like Desmond used to say. He was tough as a rock on the outside but soft as melted butter on the inside and he never hit any of them, so the hit he received now really took him by surprise and sent him back on the floor, down on his wimpy little ass. Pain shot through his skull and he felt his mouth throbbing. He could taste a bit of copper and saw blood when he pressed his fingers to his lips. Bill managed to split open his face with just this one punch and Altaїr could feel tears forming in his eyes, before he jumped up again and hurried up the stairs. He didn't look back to his uncle, standing there frozen in horror because what he had just done to his little nephew.

Desmond's face on his laptop was a little blurred due to his old webcam, his older cousin left behind for him, so they could skype. "What the hell, Altaїr?" Desmond blurted after he just accepted his cousin's call on his laptop. They agreed to meet today on skype, like they would nearly do every day for his cousin wanted to see the result of his last forgery. "What happened to your face?"

Altaїr sat cross-legged on Desmond's bed after he just annexed his room when Desmond moved out. He did it for once so that his aunty could have back her sewing room (which she did) and secondly so he could feel closer to his cousin. Now he sniffed and rubbed his wrist over his wet eyes. "Your father!" He then replied with a slight frown, even though he probably looked more like a pouting three year old.

"My dad?" Desmond asked in disbelieve. "My dad hit you?"

"Yes he did!" His eyes were still burning with tears of anger and humiliation. "I'm bleeding! This will leave a scar, I'm sure! I told you he hates my guts!"

"But, wait! What happened?" Desmond really gave his best to keep his calm, but Altaїr knew (when he sniffed again) his cousin was already thinking about coming to Boston to pay back his father for what he had just done. Desmond always stood up for him and he got into fights for protecting his cousin a few times already.

"He lost it when he saw my piercing!" Altaїr growled, even though this was not the truth or nearly the whole story. He didn’t want to tell the truth or discuss what had happened in detail. He wanted to be pitied by his cousin. A lot – and a part of him wanted his teddy, which was sitting behind him on the pillow.

Desmond sighed deeply and ruffled though his dark hair. "Okay, okay. I will take the next train back to Boston, okay? I will speak to him and … Well … I guess next year, when I'm turning twenty-one you can move in with me and Shaun."

He wanted to say that he didn’t wasn’t to live with Shaun. He hated the guy! But it didn’t come to this, after a knock on the door startled him and since he was not allowed to use his laptop at the moment he closed it fast and shoved the thing under his pillow, before the door was being opened by his uncle. Bill seemingly calmed down a bit while Altaїr was still enraged and didn’t move a bit from the bed, instead he got a little more comfortable and crossed his arms in defiance.

"Coming to punch me again?" He growled and noticed how his uncle got tense and paused at the door. Remorse was written all over his face when he spotted the nasty cut on the right corner of Altaїr's mouth where his lips were split open.

"I want to apologize." He instead said and cleared his throat. "I should never have done this, son."

Now it was Altaїr who felt guilty. A small part of him already knew why Bill punched him in the first place, but the moody teenager in him was stronger and dominated his brain still. A part of him thought that Bill might be upset over him saying that he hated him and that this could be because in fact, Bill loved him, but the moody teenager in him was of different opinion and just thought he had hit a sore spot. Altaїr was the Umar Bill never had the chance to punch in the fucking mouth. So he now let it out on his nephew.

"Yes you should not." Altaїr groaned. "Surely I will have a scar now."

Bill sighed and stepped closer into the room just to close the door behind him, then he dragged Altaїr's office chair from his desk towards the bed and sat down heavily. "Altaїr." And he said it again like he always did, like his name was venom. "We can't get on like this anymore."

"Perhaps you could stop yelling at me all the time."

"I would, if you would behave properly. You skip classes, your marks are terrible at best and your school calls me every week, then you come home with dyed hair and piercings like it's nobody's business."

"It isn’t! It's my body to do with as I please!"

"You are fifteen years old, Altaїr. You have no legal right to decide if you get a piercing or a tattoo. I can't do anything against you dying your hair, other than to forbid it though." He sighed again. "If we keep it up like this we will someday get on each other's throats and that’s not right."

"So what do you propose?" Altaїr snarled. His uncle would never change his behavior and Altaїr sure as hell wouldn’t do either. "You need to endure my presence just one more year. Desmond said he would take me in when he turns twenty-one next year!"

"We won't make it another year, Altaїr and you know that. And that is not the solution of this problem either."

"So what now? Are you kicking me out or what?"

"No." Bill replied a bit too fast for his liking. "I don’t kick you out, son. But-"

"But what?"

"I called your friend's parents. Rauf's parents. You know that they were close friends with my sister and your father, right?"

"Yes?"

"Rauf's mother told me she would gladly take you in until you finish High-School or until we get a little bit better at least. It is just a temporary solution, I won't kick you out, Altaїr. I just want us to get better, but we can't get better as long as we are ripping us apart."

Altaїr felt himself freeze. Bill could say all he wanted, that he wouldn’t kick him out. He did. He just told him he would kick him out of the house! "Are you proposing family coaching or what?" He then asked, his voice already rising in volume again, when he stood from the bed with one swift motion.

"That was what I thought."

"Don’t strain yourself!" Altaїr then snarled. "I don’t need that and I don’t need you! I was a bother for you since granny died and now you finally got an excuse for kicking me out! If you want to have a family counseling, then counsel _your_ family, but we both know that I am no part of this."

Bill tried to grasp his hand to stop him, but Altaїr rushed past him and straight for the door. He left the house, his _home_ , without taking anything with him or having cleaned up his injury at all, leaving his trusted teddy Norbert behind on the bed.

 

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He felt weird while the music was blaring in his ears, but his body was moving on his own, twisting and bumping to the music while he slowly got rid of all the unnecessary clothes he wore. It was his last show for tonight and he felt exhausted. Of course dancing was always exhausting and straining, but his back now was nearly killing him and he only wanted to get off the stage and into his worn out clothes in the back.

After his debut a few days ago, the men always seemed hungry for his attention and he already knew that some of those other dancers weren't exactly thrilled about it. When he now crawled on all fours over the black stage to the edge and ripped the few one-dollar bills from one guys hand with his teeth, he only wore the slip all of the other dancers wore before finishing of the show. The guy was one of the more creepy ones, with eyes black as the night and a growing beard that desperately needed trimming. He was an Arab, that Altaїr knew right away and he had been here during his debut too. After this one night, he came nearly every day to see him and a part of him was creeped out about this.

He was well aware how the men were staring at his ass while he moved back to his original spot near the pole, which he still didn’t master, but by now he lost a bit of his original discomfort. Yet he was glad when he took off the last piece of clothing and the lights on stage went out so he was embraced by darkness again. The timing was important. Too early and he wouldn’t be finished, too late and the guys would see more than they were supposed to.

Arno greeted him with the robe he always wore when led from the stage to the backroom. "Good job." Arno smiled and patted his back. "I would assume you get the most tips by now."

"Yes." Altaїr sighed when he slowly counted the bills he got from the men tonight. It wasn’t all that much, but considering that, it was his tip for the night it was quite something. "And the others are angry because of this. I can't really blame them."

"Don’t worry, they’ll get over it." He chuckled and led him into the changing room. Arno was of all the other dancers the most pleasant one to be around. He was no goody two shoes of course too, but at least he didn’t seem all that competitive or envious. He really was a nice guy and he took good care of him. But after all, he was one of the first to be employed by Malik and told him that the former owner of the club hadn’t treated his dancers well at all. "Are you still staying at Malik's place?"

"Yeah…" Altaїr sighed. "But Desmond's boyfriend will pick me up to drive me to Malik's place any minute now."

"That’s nice, I guess." Arno snickered but Altaїr just shrugged.

"They are treating me like a child." He smirked. "They are afraid I could get hurt if I would take the bus or something."

"I think that’s cute." Arno laughed and helped him get changed into his normal clothes again. "I mean after all you don’t need to wait in the cold for the bus that way, right?"

Well, at least that was something. "Right." Altaїr chuckled. "Man this fucking glitter! I really need to take a shower as soon as I get home." He hated how that body glitter always clumped together on his chest.

"I'll give you something to avoid that tomorrow." Arno then chuckled when Altaїr put on his jacket. Malik insisted that Altaїr would not wear his usual grey hoodie for coming to work or when he left, so he borrowed a jacket from Desmond. Things got a bit frosty in the Al-Sayf mansion since that one morning, but yet Malik would not treat him badly in any way at all.

"You really are a magician, right?" Altaїr grinned but Arno gently shoved him towards the door. "Now get out of here, you moron." The Frenchman laughed when Altaїr stumbled out of the changing room. He at least wanted to say goodnight to his cousin, so he didn’t left just through the backdoor, but instead wandered through the staff door into the lounge. His cousin was working behind his bar, throwing bottles into the air as if it was nothing at all.

"Hey there, brother!" Desmond snickered, when he noticed him out of the corner of his eye. Altaїr grinned when he stepped closer and watched his cousin finishing a martini for one of the guests. "Shaun just wrote me a message. He will be a few minutes late." Altaїr was not even surprised. He only wanted to go _home_ to his kids, even though Malik's nanny sure as hell took good care of his beloved children, but he guessed he couldn’t do much about it, so he rounded the bar and sat down on one of the barstools.

He was still a little bit sweaty, but the few men sitting at the bar didn't seem to mind. Oh no, quite the contrary. He didn’t even sit for two whole seconds until the first guy approached him. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asked in extremely broken English and a heavy accent. It was the guy Altaїr noticed before during his show, the very same one he ripped the dollars from only minutes ago.

"I don’t drink." Altaїr simply replied and tried his best to not appear arrogant or in any way unfriendly. Even though his shift was over, he could not afford losing customers due to unfriendliness. But this guy really gave him the creeps, especially when he turned back to his cousin and almost immediately felt fingers brushing over his neck.

Altaїr jumped a little and was about to turn around to give the guy a piece of his mind, when Desmond immediately chimed in. "The usual, Abbas?" The man was taking by surprise by this and his focus shifted immediately towards Desmond. Altaїr flashed his cousin a short grateful smile, but he didn’t move away to not appear as if he would flee from the guy. Oh no, after all he wanted to get more tips from him in the near future, right? Luckily, Desmond knew what he was doing and for him it was easy to get this guy engaged in a conversation. The other customers chatted with each other or with one of the dancers wandering about seemingly naked. For gay guys this really must be paradise.

Altaїr took a quick look around, but he couldn’t spot Malik and guessed he was in his office.

"Do you even have any clue how hot it would be if you and Desmond would make out?" He couldn’t help but flinch a little bit, when Kadar Al-Sayf approached him. Altaїr groaned and rolled his amber eyes.

"What?" He sighed, finally accepting that he would not sit here in peace to watch his cousin work until Shaun would get here.

"I mean are you sure you're no twins? There are sure enough a lot of guys that would pay good money for seeing you two _do the do_." Kadar grinned sheepishly when he stepped closer and sat down on one of the stools next to him, ordering a drink only with a small gesture.

"I bet you would." Altaїr then snarled.

"Yeah I would." Kadar laughed. "So, how much would I need to pay you to let me fuck you?"

"I am not gay." He was not even offended by Kadar's question, though he probably should be.

"Me neither."

"So why would you want to fuck me then?" Altaїr asked, but a small part of him was sure he didn't even want to hear the answer, because it could only be the most stupid thing he would ever hear.

"Because you are ridiculously hot." Kadar laughed.

"And you're just ridiculous." Altaїr sighed, even though he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit, because he thought Kadar only joked around a bit – and to be honest, he found it quite funny too. What came next, Altaїr didn't suspect at all and he was not sure if he should punch Kadar in the mouth for even suggesting it.

"Well, do you even know how big your debts you have are?" The younger Al-Sayf asked grinning with a small glint in his blue eyes, Altaїr didn’t like it at all. He looked more than just mischievous now. "I would give you half a million dollars if you would let me bang you, that’s more than enough to pay back your debts and even have more than enough money left to have a good life. You wouldn’t even need to work here anymore."

Altaїr looked at him with a face that could only be described as disgusted. "I like working here." He growled, though he wanted to strangle Kadar for even suggesting this to him. He felt uncomfortable, for he still had no clue if Kadar was serious or not.

"I think Shaun waits for you outside." Desmond again chimed in. Altaїr was not sure if his cousin had heard their conversation, but he surely had seen how Altaїr's face had changed. His cousin knew him all too well, that was for sure.

"Yes." Altaїr murmured when he rose from his spot. "I'll better wait outside, I guess." With that, he waved at Desmond, who smiled at him, before he finally left through the staff door again. He knew that Shaun would pick him up in the alleyway again, so he left through the back door as fast as he could, before Kadar would try to get to him again. He didn’t fear the young man, but now that he knew about Malik's affiliation to the Mob, he guessed that Kadar was the same. You simply don’t fuck with the Mob. And you don’t refuse a member of the Mob. Perhaps he was a little bit naïve sometimes, some would argue even dumb, but he was not as stupid as not to know such things.

Hell, where did he get himself into again?

The cold air felt heavenly on his hot skin, when he stepped outside, so he stopped for a moment and enjoyed the feeling, before he walked on. He knew that Shaun wouldn’t be here soon, after Desmond told him he would be a bit late, so he could as well walk around a little bit to get a clear head again. Half a million dollar really were a great amount of money and that only for one night! But he didn’t believe that Kadar really was serious about this. He wanted to tease Altaїr and maybe humiliate him a little bit. Perhaps it had been a test to see how desperate the young father really was.

Well of course, he was right. Having half a million dollar would make it a lot more easier for Altaїr to get his shit together. He could try to find a decent job so his kids could be proud of their father and he could pay back his debts he had with Desmond too.

But no. He could not allow himself to sink any deeper than he already did. Being a stripper was worse enough, but selling his body (even for half a million dollar) was simply not acceptable. He could never look into the mirror again. He could never hug his children again without feeling like absolute trash. Perhaps he was a little overreacting.

A few moments passed in which Altaїr simply paced around a bit in that alleyway, waiting for Shaun and bringing warmth to his muscles with every step he took, until he heard something again.

"Need a ride?" The heavy accentuated voice from before sounded somewhere behind him. It was of course ridiculously cold by now, but he wouldn’t whine about it. When Altaїr turned around, he looked right into the face of this creepy Arabian guy Abbas again. Well what did he expect really?

"No thank you." He answered as politely as he could muster right now. "I'll get picked up any minute now."

The man seemed disappointed, but in the darkness of the alley, it really was hard to tell. His face seemed a little bit blotched and his dark taint looked eerie in the neon lights of the few street lamps illuminating the alley at least a tiny bit (but not nearly as much as Altaїr would prefer).

"What a pity." The man then said. "But I really don’t want you to wait here in the cold. How about you wait in my car for your boyfriend instead?" Well, at least this guy hadn’t heard his conversation with Kadar about how he was not gay it seemed. It was better the customers would think him to be gay, so they could fantasize a bit over having a chance to get into his pants. He got way more money out of them this way.

"No…" Altaїr answered again even though it was harder and harder to keep up a slight smile. "It's okay. The cold doesn’t bother me."

"But I can see that you're freezing. Who would let a guy like you freeze in the middle of the night at such dangerous place? Your boyfriend doesn’t take good care of you." The man rambled on. "I would never do this to you." He stepped closer and Altaїr found himself moving backwards a little before he felt one of the large garbage containers in his back. It smelled awful, yet he kept up the most friendly expression he could.

"'Bet you would." He said and tried a court little laugh. The dark eyes of the man glistened menacing and Altaїr could feel his heart race at an uncomfortable speed.

"Then go out with me." He said. "I heard what this guy was saying. You have debts? I could help you with this. I would take good care of you and you wouldn’t need to work here anymore."

Suddenly he was so close Altaїr could almost feel his breath on his face, but he couldn’t escape either. Of course, he could try to punch him or kick him so he would finally run off, but he couldn’t bring himself to it. Malik would be furious when he did something like that to one of his customers.

"Sorry, but I'm quite happy with my boyfriend." He tried to escape the situation, but the man snarled.

"Don’t play shy." He groaned. "You were not so shy on stage." His desire turned to anger very quickly and for Altaїr very fast to see. "I saw how you looked at me on stage." His voice was husky with a mix of excitement and rage, when he seemed to realize that Altaїr did fool him only for the money.

"Altaїr!" The Brit's voice never was more welcome for Altaїr than in this very instant. "Hey buddy, over here! Its fucking cold, come on now!"

Altaїr smiled apologetically at Abbas, when he gently shoved him back by the shoulder and then hurried towards the British guy standing on the corner of the _Plan B_ , his car keys in hand. Shaun shot a last long look at Abbas, still standing frozen on the spot, looking after them, before he flung his arm around Altaїr's waist and dragged him with him towards his car. Perhaps it was good that tonight the Brit had parked in front of the bar and not the alley.


	10. the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the following uncensored and completely naked booty is arrrr's reward.

Malik Al-Sayf had no clue how this whole thing really started. Yet he found himself in this little predicament and he had no clue how he should maneuver out of it again. First it began as a small hint of interest in another human being, a tender blossom of curiosity towards this man. He rarely met someone who would have the balls of talking back to him like this guy did. Of course, he was a clueless man, a rather dumb specimen. No, that was actually not true. This man - Altaїr, was his name - was not dumb at all, even though Malik by now had this very distinct feeling the people in Altaїr's life tried to convince the young man of exactly that. Sure he was a little naïve at times, that nobody could deny and he was sure that even Altaїr himself was aware of this naiveté of his. His brother, the younger (and dumber) Al-Sayf, thought Altaїr must be at least a little bit stupid for signing a contract in a strip club without even reading it or for not knowing that they were part of the Mob. Malik on the other hand thought that it was not so much stupidity which drove Altaїr to do exactly that (signing a contract without reading it, that was), but that it had been more like mere despair.

He never was in a situation like Altaїr's, no matter what he'd said to him this one morning. Sure, his wife died shortly after his son's birth, but he had the money and the possibilities to not having a problem with raising his child alone - simply because he was not alone. He had the money that was necessary to buy himself loyalty towards him and protection for his baby son. And were money was not enough, threatening to kill one's entire family sure was enough.

He was no violent man in actuality - only that he was at times. In his world the name Al-Sayf left grown men frozen in fear, but Malik was not really proud of this while his baby brother bragged exactly about this. Kadar liked to provoke, to go around and show who he was without saying a word. The word Mafia could as well be tattooed to his forehead, for the way his brother was behaving most of the time. Kadar liked to wear the most expensive clothing and own the most expensive cars or electronics. He was simply spoiled rotten by their parents and the other families, while Malik's path had been a different one.

Kadar was not that much younger than him, only two short years, but their lives could not be more different. Sometimes it was as if their parents had been different ones and as if they weren't even brothers at all, for no matter how awful their parents had been towards Malik at times, all the more sweet and loving they had been with Kadar. He never understood why, but he never blamed Kadar as well. He needed to work for the things he wanted to have, while Kadar only needed to frown. That was how it always was and always would be. And if he would not be the stern parent for his brother, that Kadar never had, nobody would and nobody would save Kadar from being murdered in cold blood by their enemies one day.

But back to Altaїr.

This guy. Oh, this guy. Malik had been impressed, after their first two meetings. Not about his boldness and surely not about the way he left the _Plan B_ that one night, but about the things he dealt with. It was a matter of course that Malik checked Altaїr's background. He liked to know absolutely everything about his employees and that he did. He knew absolutely everything about this man and Altaїr did know only so little. It was somewhat amusing to him. Well, at least it was normally. This time it was quite different, but he still did not know what it was.

"It's his booty." Kadar sat down in front of him on the other side of his large Oakwood desk and folded his hands on the wooden table in that very fashion he always did when discussing business or serious stuff with people. "Right? Well, I can't blame you, brother dear. He really has a nice ass. I don’t understand why you haven't bent him over this desk already. You sure you're gay?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Malik groaned and drove his left hand through his black hair before he fell back into his chair. He would not get this nasty paperwork done as long as Kadar would be here anyway. "Desmond already told me that you hit on Altaїr."

"I'm your brother, I will never shut up or leave you alone, that’s the beautiful thing about having siblings. Just go and ask Ezio. I'm sure he will tell you all about it. And yes I did hit on him. Since you haven't done anything yet, I thought why shouldn’t I? I'm sure it's considered a crime at least somewhere in the world to not hit on someone with such good looks."

"Stop it, Kadar. I don’t want this to happen in my establishment, okay? It's not professional." - Not that this would hinder his brother in any way what so ever.

"Oh gosh professionalism my ass, Malik! You sound almost exactly like our father, do you even know that?"

 _Yes_ , Malik thought. He did know that and he didn’t like that. He loved his father and mother dearly, of course, but they never really were parents to him - not like they were with Kadar at least. He was the oldest and thus it was his duty to carry on their family name and with that their legacy. He was never so much of a son for his father than he was his student. Perhaps that was why Malik now did have such a hard time dealing with his own little son. He never learned how to be a kid. Altaїr on the other hand never learned how to be an adult. Oh for fucks sake! Would this guy ever have the decency not to run around in his head 24/7?!

"You need to learn this, Kadar." Malik sighed. "Someday you will lead this establishment and then you will need to understand such things. No matter if I'm gay or not."

But Kadar only rolled his eyes at this, leant back in this chair as well and crossed his arms in front of his chest like a pouting three year old. While Malik was looking and behaving like their father, Kadar looked all the more like their mother. He even got her eyes and Malik always envied him for that. "Anyway. We need to keep an eye on things in the future. Arno told me, that this Abbas-guy hit on Altaїr too and that he followed him outside. You know how this creep is, perhaps we should tell Connor to keep a closer eye on this guy."

"Did Connor see anything?" Anger was boiling inside of him, but Malik was not at all in the right mood to show that - not even to his brother. He would like to say Kadar knew him best, but sadly that was not true at all, even though he would like that. Most of the time he felt like he was lost in the ocean with having no one to really talk to.

"No. But he did see Desmond's boyfriend picking Altaїr up." Kadar explained with a sigh. Well, at least Desmond and his boyfriend took care of Altaїr. Fucking Abbas. If it wasn’t for business Malik would've gut this guy already. He was a creep, but a regular creep since the _Plan B_ came to life. First he had been obsessed with Desmond, then with one of the boys who wasn’t working here anymore, then with Arno and now Altaїr was his newest target it seemed. He never liked it, no matter with whom he had been obsessed with, but he was a good customer and the business called for such things - so why did it bother him so much right now?

Well, he did know why and that was the real thing that was bothering him.

"I'll take care of this." Malik grunted and noticed the small smirk pulling on his brother's lips - which he ignored. Just as Kadar was about to say something (probably something stupid) again, his phone rang and Malik couldn’t have been any more grateful for this. His stomach dropped though, when he grabbed his phone from his desk and saw the name of the caller.

Giovanni Auditore only rarely called him himself, but every time he did do it, it surely brought no good news. Normally Malik tried to avoid meeting him or even hearing his voice, but now he couldn’t help it.

 

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There was one thing his father told him when he was a teenager and started to really understand the business their family dealt with. It was simple. _Don’t fuck with the Auditores._ Especially Giovanni Auditore. In their little community of families, the Auditores were without doubt the leading force behind all of it. They weren't bad guys, they wouldn’t start war with them or something like that. They were more than allies. They were families. The Al-Sayfs, the Kenways and the Auditores. They all were _family_.

But there were certain rules within their family.

When he got the call Malik just left his car. He was surprised to say the least to see Giovanni's car in front of his parents' home, but there was no reason for him to be concerned. For a moment Malik paused and leant against his car, a red Lamborghini and enjoyed the warm sunlight shining on his face. He loved that stupid car. He was a little bit displeased by the events of the day to be honest. Of course business had been as usual and everything went according to plan, only his last appointment didn’t. And now Giovanni Auditore was at his home.

For a brief moment he saw one of the curtains upstairs moving and he was aware that it must be his little brother. He was nineteen and just started university. Malik on the other hand already didn’t know if this law school thing really was the right thing for him. It was just another thing his family arranged for him and they were right when they said it was good to focus on law for his future for it could only benefit him - while doing unlawful business. Most of the members of their big family were studying law. It was either that or politics or business.

Malik sighed when he saw the front door being opened already and moved from his car towards the door so he could finally enter the house. The maid didn’t look at him, when he moved past her, but Malik didn’t really care either. He found his parents and Giovanni sitting in the living room sipping sweet Turkish tea and eating baklava as if it was the most normal thing to do. Well, it was of course, even for them. The normal people tended to imagine them as completely evil people, who didn’t need to drink or eat and who weren't social at all. Well, they were much more secluded than normal people, behind their fences, hiding in their big houses, that was for sure and they were much more careful with social interaction, but they were neither monsters nor machines.

But of course, Malik would not run around telling everyone and their mum who he was and what his family did for a living. It was not necessary. Most people knew anyway (or at least suspect) when hearing his last name or seeing the _house_ he was living in. Perhaps that was only all the more reason why he never had many friends during his childhood or adolescence.

When his parents noticed him and raised their heads to look at their oldest son, Malik stopped in the doorframe of the living room. Their faces were serious and gave him the impression that he had done something terribly wrong. As a child he would've expected a slap, whenever he did something wrong, followed by him being grounded. His parents were strict. Loving, without doubt, but strict and they would not deal with any kind of his bullshit. Of course they were less stern with his little brother.

He didn’t ask if he had done something wrong, like his brother would do in a situation like this, instead he greeted Giovanni and his parents as polite as humanly possible. "Is something wrong?" Malik then asked when he stepped closer, but it was Giovanni who shook his head a little and then patted the sofa cushion right next to the spot he sat on.

"Sit down, boy. We want to have a little chat with you."

"About what?" Malik asked, but obeyed when he sat down next to the Italian man. It wasn’t as if he would hate Giovanni or any of the Auditore, but he wasn’t very fond of them either. He liked the Kenways more. Well, not all of them, but he did like Edward and his young grandson Connor very much. Haytham and his sister Jennifer on the other hand … Oh well.

"About your future of course." Giovanni replied with his thick and heavy accentuated voice. His mother's face appeared crumbled as if she had bitten into a lemon right now. She was not happy with whatever they discussed before his arrival. And his father - oh, his father - he flashed him a look of utter disbelieve and … was this disgust he could read in his eyes?

"My future?" Malik repeated and tried a small smile."I thought that was taken care of already. I will finish law school in a few years and then I will join the family business, right?"

"Oh I didn’t mean that." Giovanni chuckled and patted his shoulder. "I meant your personal life, boy."

"My personal life?" Malik's stomach dropped. It wasn't as if he wouldn't have expected a conversation like this was to happen at some point in his life. But not so early.

"You see, Malik, there comes a time in every man's life when he needs to think of the future of his family, especially in our field of profession."

"I am twenty-one years old, Uncle Giovanni. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful that you are so worried and considerate about the future of my family and about my personal luck, but I think I will have plenty of time to worry about that." Malik replied with a small grin, but then his mother hissed at him and when Malik looked confused at her face, she wouldn’t even meet his eyes. Her blue eyes were focused on her china tea set.

He noticed how Giovanni opened his mouth to speak to him again, but then his father finally lost his calm and his meaty fist hit the top of their coffee table with such force that Malik almost jumped right out of his skin and the good china was clattering in fear. "We found out about your little secret, Malik." He growled, his nostrils flaring with rage like a bull and Malik tried his best to conceal his surprise.

"What do you mean, father?" He asked, but his father grew only more angry with him, the dark skin of his face red with anger.

"Don’t act like you are so innocent, Malik! Did you think you could hide this from us? Did you really think that? Didn’t we raise you to be a good man? To be a responsible and honest man?"

"You raised me to be a Mafioso." Malik finally growled. He was confused and he had no clue at all what was going on even though he feared for the worst. Again his father's fist hit the table and he could see tears forming in his mother's eyes. They were no tears of sadness or worry or frustration - they were tears or rage.

"I raised you to be a MAN, Malik! No sick creep who lets himself gets fucked in the ass by another man!" He yelled and Malik needed a moment to really process what he just said, while the ground was already opening underneath his feet to swallow him whole. He felt the blood rushing into his head, felt how his ears grew hot and his heart skipping a few beats.

"W-What?" Malik then stammered, but he already knew that there was no point in playing dumb anymore. But before his father could say anything else, Giovanni raised his hand to silence the enraged Syrian.

"Your father is angry because you are gay, Malik. That’s completely understandable, don’t you think? I guess he would've liked it more if you would've confessed to them instead of them needing to find it out themselves." Malik could only nod, even though they all knew this was not the truth. His father was no liberal man. He was one who would spit on gays or throw the first rock on them. He would've thrown Malik off a building for all he knew. But this was not about being honest or about him being gay and thus a disappointment for his family, this was about keeping up appearances.

"So, we are here now to discuss how we will deal with this problem."

"Deal with it?" Malik asked, but his voice was suddenly very thin and very shaky, just another reason for his father to be disappointed by him. He didn’t raise wimpy assfucker, how he always liked to state.

"Sure we can't let this keep going on, Malik. You see, I don’t care what you do behind closed doors, but clearly your parents do and we, as a _family_ , need to consider how the other families and the rest of the city will see us." Again he nodded, even though he did not understand it at all. "We took care of things so that this will not get public in any way." This time Malik very well knew what it meant. They had taken care of his boyfriend and that was why he didn’t come to their date today. He didn’t ask what they’ve done to him. He was creative enough to imagine.

"So… what do you propose?" Malik asked and tried his best to let his voice sound firm and strong again, even though grief was grabbing his heart like an unbreakable fist. Was he dead? Probably. It was either that or … no. There was no way he would try to fathom what the _or_ was. They had their ways of dealing with stuff like that. Malik knew this well. They were the Mafia. They were not the good guys. His father liked to remember him of that. The Al-Sayf were dealing with weapons, they were shipping weapons into war zones, so that terrorists could shoot children with them. _They were not nice._

"You see, coincidence has it that one of your cousins just started her journey to the US. Her name is Adha, I'm sure you remember her. Her father has her sent from Turkey to the US so she can find a decent husband." Malik wanted to scream. He wanted to throw a tantrum. He wanted to yell at them, that he would not marry this awful girl. But Malik nodded anyway.

 

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When Malik had accepted the call of Giovanni this night his thought had been with Altaїr and his children. He didn’t really know why. He had done what the family asked of him six years ago and Altaїr was only his employee. Nothing to worry about there. Right? Other than that it had been Giovanni who wanted him to buy the _Plan B_ back in the day. Of course this was not meant as a reward. They had numerous establishments like this one. It was for him to learn.

At the end of the day it hadn't been all that bad he guessed. It had been only a little reminder about someone that needed to be taken care of. Well at least he now did have something else he could ponder about other than Altaїr. Abu'l Nuqoud was getting on Giovanni's nerves. This of course was nothing new exactly, after all Abu'l - the king of the merchants, how he liked to call himself - was intermeddling with their businesses for a long time now, but it seemed Giovanni finally had enough of this. It seemed he wanted to ruin some of their businesses, but Malik granted him at least that he wasn’t aware that those were their businesses. He didn't know by now how he would get rid of the guy, only that he would.

When Malik finally arrived at his house the sun was already rising and the sky was tinted in a beautiful magenta-tone. It promised to be a beautiful late October day, the first without it raining all day in a long time now, but Malik was simply too tired to really care. He opened the door as silent as possible and closed it the very same way to not wake up anybody- not that he really thought this would be possible this early in the morning. Altaїr was probably fast asleep by now after the long night he had. The Nanny would not be here until seven and it were a good three hours till then. So Malik deemed himself alone and thus did not have the decency to stifle a yawn when he hung his jacket to the coat rag and shoved his keys back into his pants (he simply could not risk anyone taking them - other than this he would forget where he put them otherwise).

For a moment he thought about just going upstairs and getting some rest, but then he thought it might be best to start with his research about Abu'l right away. The sooner he would know his weak point, the sooner he would solve this problem and the less he would need to deal with Giovanni. But Malik didn’t get to his office, because a little squeal from the living room caught his attention. So he slowly and silently approached the living room door and leant in a little. There he was again, the guy that held his mind in his hands without even knowing that and Malik blamed his current state of exhaustion to even think something like that. Altaїr was sitting crossed legged on the blue carpet in the middle of his living room, his fingers tickling his little son's back and sides to make him squeak and squeal.

Little Sef Ibn-La'Ahad war naked. Utterly and completely naked and the diaper bag Altaїr brought with him was standing right beside the father of said child, his rompers draped over it and the presumably soiled diaper folded next to it. Malik smirked and didn’t even know exactly why, but he kept watching the baby lying on the carpet, his bum wiggling every time he squealed a little. It seemed as if he wanted to escape his father in crawling forward, his bottom slightly lifted, but he had no chance, since his father knew no mercy.

But Malik found mercy inside his mind for the infant. "Well, it seems as if there is a naked baby on my carpet." He said, his voice husky from the lack of sleep and Altaїr almost jumped out of his skin again. "If he pees on my carpet you will clean it." Altaїr obviously took a moment to brace himself, when he grabbed his little one and took him onto his lap before he turned around to face Malik.

He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept at all this night, though he was wearing his pajamas. "Well, you really look like shit." Malik stated with a small smirk and leant against the doorframe, even though he didn’t really feel like smirking or grinning or smiling, but he couldn’t help it too. Altaїr looked terribly tired and it was kind of cute, with his messy hazelnut brown hair and his sleepy looking eyes. I was even cuter than seeing this guy jump in surprise. Sef on the other hand seemed wide awake, his brown eyes fixated on Malik, sitting comfortably on his father's lap, feeling obviously save in his arms. Sef was a sweet child, Malik thought. He was rarely crying, for all he knew and he hadn’t heard him scream often during the last nights. Tazim on the other hand … Well, he had almost driven his father insane back when he was a baby. At the worst time Malik almost didn’t sleep at all and that was when he finally hired a nanny for his always crying and screaming child and felt like a total failure the very same instant the nanny arrived to take care of his problem. He was meant to be a better father to his son than his own father had been.

He really envied Altaїr. His children loved him and he was not even aware of how much.

"Did the little ones keep you up tonight? I told you I have enough spare bedrooms so at least you and Darim could have your own beds." But he also knew that Altaїr wouldn’t let Darim out of eyesight, even though they were here for a few days now and Altaїr seemed to trust him at least enough to stay here even though he knew that he was a Mobster. Malik could understand him. Altaїr surely felt more at ease when he could feel Darim next to him at night, after all they were used to this. Altaїr told him already that Darim never had a bed to himself since he outgrew his crib.

"Nah it's alright." Altaїr then explained and shrugged it off. "I just couldn’t sleep." But they both knew that this was not the whole truth. "I just came down to change the little guy's diapers, so we wouldn’t disturb Darim." Yet he hadn’t changed Sef's diapers yet but rather tortured him with tickling. Altaїr stifled a yawn, while Sef did not have the decency to do so. It was quite adorable how Sef would crunch up his little face when he would yawn.

That was why he liked children so much. They were always honest, never concealed anything. "My brother told me that some of the regulars hit on you last night?" Malik then asked and didn't really know why he did so. He knew that Altaїr was no damsel in distress and that he would not cry on his shoulder about the sexual harassment of any customer. That was part of the business and Altaїr needed to understand that. But that was the owner of the _Plan B_ speaking, Malik on the other hand was furious, for he knew things could've been worse. But Altaїr only snorted and pressed a chaste kiss to Sefs temple. So much for changing diapers then.

"It wasn’t that bad." Altaїr muffled. "It's part of the job, I guess. I will get used to it, I think. But did your brother also told you that he too hit on me?"

It wasn’t as if it would be news to Malik. Kadar was not gay, they all knew that, but Kadar had grown up knowing who he was and that he could have absolutely anything he wanted to have. When he got interested in something, he would get it and then lose interest. He had always been like that, always wanting the newest toys, the latest technology, the best of the best, only to get bored and throw it away. Now Altaїr was the center of his attention and Malik didn’t like this, but what could he do about it? "He does that sometimes." Malik then murmured, even though his mind was racing and questioning him why he would even say something like that. How much stupider could he possibly get? "He doesn’t mean it. He's like a three year old and you are now, sadly, the toy he wants. Just ignore him and eventually he will get bored and move on." _Apologize for your brother, Malik!_ His mind shouted in desperation. He could not possibly say things like that as if it was normal and absolutely understandable that his brother would harass his employees like that. He was a good employer! He took care of his employees! "But I'm deeply sorry if he made you uncomfortable."

It was hard to tell what Altaїr was thinking, but it was very obvious to Malik that he was pondering about something. "Don’t worry." He then murmured. "It's alright, I can defend myself. If necessary I will kick him in the balls."

Malik chuckled. "Yes, please do that." He then smirked, even though it was his baby brother they were talking about. "So good news, then." Malik finally and very elegantly changed the topic, just when Altaїr finally grabbed for the diaper bag. Sef didn’t seem to care that he still was pretty much very naked. "I just got a call back at the office. Your flat is almost finished and you can look at it this afternoon."

The Auditores would never do a half assed job, but Malik could only hope that Ezio did not go over the top with Altaїr's flat. He didn’t care how much more rent the other tenants would need to pay from now on, but Ezio and he agreed that Altaїr would not need to pay more than before. He didn’t even know why. Perhaps he really was lost.

"Well, that was fast." Altaїr then answered in surprise, his bright amber eyes wide, but glistening with excitement.

"Oh, and I have a few errands for you to run." Altaїr finally smiled. It was no sheepish grin, no little smirk; it was a real smile, because more errands meant extra money to pay back his debts. Whatever he pondered about before now seemingly vanished from his mind and Malik too felt a smile tugging on his lips.

Well, he was doomed.

 

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Altaїr had left his baby son with his cousin, after this very long night. Desmond had been eager as ever to take care of Sef and Sef had been eager to get spoiler rotten by his _Uncle_. For Altaїr it still was a real big relief to have Desmond taking care of his kids, when he needed to work. Of course he could've left Sef with Tazim's nanny, but it simply didn’t feel right and Altaїr still remembered what Malik told him about people who are getting paid for taking care of someone else's children.

It were only small errands he needed to run for Malik during the day and he was a little disappointed by them, because he didn't think he would get much extra money out of them to pay back his debts, but it was better than nothing. So he brought Malik's suits to the laundry and delivered some letters, even though Malik probably had staff to do something like that. The man he delivered the first letters too looked rather suspiciously at Altaїr, when he met him at the corner of a chocolate house ( _Whites Chocolate House_ , a famous address in New York, but way too expensive for Altaїr and his kids), but Altaїr just shrugged it off and just concentrated on the job. He got another letter from the dark haired man, to deliver it to someone else and Altaїr did, not knowing what this was about, but he was positive that he didn’t even want to know too.

The less he would know the better.

Then there was this fat guy, waiting for him in a restaurant, sitting by himself but his table full with different dishes. To him Altaїr handed the last letter. Malik's handwriting really was pretty for a guy, Altaїr must grant him that. It was an invitation, so much Altaїr could read from the envelop and he didn’t even wanted to know how long Malik had needed to practice this to have a handwriting like this. That fat man smiled at him, when he eyed Altaїr up and the young father was quite happy when he could leave the place again. The waiters looked funny at him anyway when he entered with his torn and used clothes. He was like a bug flying around this luxurious establishment. He couldn't blame him and he was just glad to get out of there again, for it was quite clear to him that he didn’t belong to a place like this.

After this last errand he went back to the apartment complex he lived in. The whole façade was covered with a large scaffold and he could see construction workers climbing up and down, doing their job. Well, he clearly did not miss his time as a construction worker at all, that was for sure. It was a dangerous job at times, but the security measurements on this construction side seemed to be way better than on those Altaїr worked at. Slowly he approached the building, blending out the familiar noise of electronic drills and sledgehammers. Even the elevator was under construction, so Altaїr went up the stairs, which were covered in dust and partly rubble.

Reaching the first floor Altaїr noticed that he could not go any further than the first floor. The staircase was off limits as marked by a tape, so he paused in confusion. Did Malik get the wrong information?

"Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad, I guess?" Again with the Italian accent! Altaїr could not believe it! As if Mr. Alfonso hadn't been worse enough already! When he turned, Altaїr could see a young guy approaching him, dressed up in a dark suit, wearing a blood red dress shirt underneath the black suit jacket. He was a lot shorter than Altaїr but Altaїr guessed that this guy was at least a good ten years older than him. His skin was sun kissed, but presumably paler than it normally used to be, his jaw unshaved and his smile was the biggest and sunniest smile he had ever seen. His chocolate brown eyes almost exploded with joy out of his head when he greeted Altaїr with an over exited handshake and his brown hair was neatly pulled back into a pony tail. When they shook hands Altaїr could spot the bright gold wedding band on his hand. It looked quite new and shiny. It was either new or the guy took very good care of it.

"Auditore." He introduced himself. "Ezio. Ezio Auditore, it’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad. My dear friend Malik told me all about you."

Whatever that meant. Altaїr forced a small smile. "I hope only good things." He answered and the man laughed before he patted his shoulder.

"Of course, of course! But now let me show you your new home, I bet you are just as excited as I am." Whatever that meant. The man gestured across the first floor hallway, before he walked back to where he came from. The first floor hallway looked very different to what Altaїr remembered. The walls were freshly painted white and the wooden floorboards where almost as dark as cedar wood. He like this contrast. The doors to both sides were of the same color and the door numbers were of brightly polished silver metal and not the rusty brass from before.

"So I'm not living in my old flat anymore?" Altaїr asked when he followed the Italian man to the left side of the hallway, but the man laughed again.

"Oh dear no!" He laughed. "But you will love your new flat!"

"I'm not sure I can afford this." Altaїr sighed. Of course, all of this had been too good to be true. Of course Malik would arrange this house to be renovated so Altaїr would not be able to pay the rent and perhaps stop working for him in any way.

"Don’t worry about that." Ezio answered, but of course Altaїr worried. He didn’t even want to see the new flat he would be living in, for he knew he would not be able to maintain it. Yet he followed Ezio into the third flat on the right, at the end of the hallway. The door was wide open and his name was already attached to the doorbell. It was even spelled right.

Altaїr was surprised of how big this flat was, right when he entered. Even the hallway was at least twice as big as his old one and the kitchen … wow. There was no way in describing how much different it was! Altaїr was torn between shock and excitement and sadness when he moved through the rooms, accompanied by Ezio's rambling. There were two bedrooms and the larger one was already intended to be the kids' room.

Well, Ezio was right. He loved it. And that made it all the more harder for him.

There was no furniture yet, but, when he entered the bathroom he almost jumped in excitement. Finally he got his very own glass cubicle for a shower. "I told you, you would love it." His new landlord smirked, when he saw the excitement written all over Altaїr's stupid face, no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

This flat was all he always wished for. A new start, a good life for his kids, a warm and nice home, only that he simply could not afford it. "It's beautiful." Altaїr then sighed and again Ezio patted his back, before he shoved his left hand into his suit jacket. "Almost forgot. You’ve got mail this morning, I almost wanted to send it to Malik's house, but now I can give it to you myself. Looks important." With that Ezio shoved the letter right into Altaїr's open hands. "If you would excuse me, I need to make a call. Just look around as long as you want. This is your home after all!" And with those cheerful words Ezio really left him alone inside the flat.

Altaїr was not so sure if he really should be grateful for that, but then again – perhaps he should not always expect only bad things to happen to him, right? This flat was a new beginning for him and his kids. So, while Altaїr moved through the different rooms again, he already started imagining how he would furnish them. He stopped in the kids' room and sat down on the wooden floorboards. They were still a bit dusty from the workers running around, but he didn’t care. He simply crossed his legs and looked around.

He could already see Sef's crib standing at the far end of the room and Darim's new bed right beside the door. They would have a god time in this room – in this flat. They would finally have a normal life. It was only then, that Altaїr finally looked at the letter in his hand and he ripped it open without even looking at the sender.

His stomach dropped, as soon as he saw the insignia of the youth welfare office of Boston and he felt all of his blood leaving his body, when his eyes darted over the letter in his hands. He was right after all. There would never be any good in his life for it would

get repaid seven times immediately.

And this time once more all that was wrong with his life went by the name of Maria Thorpe.


	11. Blackout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for some of the missing spaces between words. I'm switiching between the pc in my office and at home and it seems everytime I open the documents at home there are missing spaces =.= I'll edit that A.S.A.P.

_It was already pitch black outside and it was freezing cold, when Altaїr stumbled through the loud streets of New York. He did not care if he stumbled against some of the passersby on his way to wherever. His head just felt nice and fuzzy and he simply did not give a fuck._

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"Is something wrong, Malik?" Ezio's voice was soft as velvet as he leant back into the big fluffy sofa cushions and crossed his legs, a glass of red wine (red as blood) between his fingers. "You seem nervous, my friend. It seems as if you are far, far away right now."

They were not friends, that was the first thing to understand, yet they were no enemies and he even trusted Ezio … somewhat. "No it's alright." Malik then sighed and ruffled through his dark hair. He did not like to be at the Auditore mansion, but this was Ezio's home and his father was miles away. He did not even know why he was so worried in the first place.

"It is because of your new friend Altaїr right?" Ezio smirked knowingly. Well, then again it was kinda hard not to know how Malik thought about Altaїr considering that he almost every time got a hard on when he saw the guy. Fucking idiot. How should he expect Ezio not to know when he explicitly told him about the conditions he wanted to have for Altaїr's new flat? Even a self-possessed guy like Ezio would understand.

"No." _Yes_. Altaїr did not come home after his visit at the new flat. He had picked up neither Sef nor Darim. His phone was apparently turned off for hours now and nobody knew where he was or if something happened. Desmond already called him a bunch of times, enquiring him where his little cousin was, but Malik knew no answer.

"You don't need to hide this from me; I am not my father or _your_ father." What did Ezio even know about his father? What did he even know about anything? He was sitting here in his palace doing nothing all day other than threatening people every now and then.

"There is nothing to hide." Malik sighed.

"Yes, sure." Ezio then replied with a dry smirk. "You know, Malik, your father is dead, he can't force you to do anything anymore, right? And my father does not want to force you to do anything anymore. You did what was best for the family, you did what they asked of you, now you can do whatever you like."

Malik snorted, because they both knew that this was not true. It was right, that Giovanni was much more liberal than Faheem and that he did not care if Malik was gay or not, but he would not accept Malik having an established relationship to any guy whatsoever. Of course, he could look for a fucktoy, a little plaything for his big and lonely bed, but that was simply not what he wanted. To be honest he had not even thought about having someone by his side for a long time now. He had been too busy with work and with Tazim.

"Anyway." Malik then sighed. "About Abu'l. Tell your father I think I found a way to get to him. Kadar will sneak into his office while I take care of the rest."

"I hope it will be fun?" Ezio chuckled, but Malik only rolled his eyes. Killing someone was never fun, but Malik had a somewhat good reputation for that kind of stuff. "Bring me a souvenir of this ugly piece of shit."

"Where is Connor?" Malik asked instead of even thinking of an answer. He was no one who would jest as much. Kadar was way better company for someone like Ezio. And said Italian's grin only widened.

"Adonis?" He chuckled and again Malik rolled his eyes. He could not stand this. He felt the anger rushing through his system.

"Just, stop that, Ezio." He then growled. "It's not right, don't treat him like this. Connor doesn’t know any better and you, dear friend, are going to be a dead man, if Haytham or Edward should find out about this."

"He's an adult!" Ezio laughed and rubbed over his unshaved jaw. He knew no shame and he was very much like Malik's own younger brother. The Auditore were not all that different to the Al-Sayfs. Federico too had grown up the very same way as Malik. He was shaped and pushed into the future head of the Auditore family, had to marry a girl he hated only because he got her pregnant by accident and was now living in Florence. Ezio on the other hand had all the freedom he could wish for. Nobody cared for whom he fucked. Well – perhaps his wife did.

"He's a kid." Malik groaned. "He is only nineteen, Ezio! He has no clue what's going on so let him be."

"How would you know? Did you try anything?" Ezio was having a great time, he could see that. "Leonardo says he doing just fine."

"Leonardo is not you. For Leonardo Connor is his masterpiece, he is in love with the art Connor promises. You on the other hand are playing the poor guy. Connor is not for you to fuck, Ezio. He is a child and he is not like this. If you will do anything with him that goes in that direction, it's either you who gets killed or Sofia." Because Connor would have none of this and Malik liked the poor guy too much to let him fall in love with someone like Ezio. Connor was confused enough he knew that by now.

Ezio held up his hands in defiance. "Alright, alright! I'll stop, I promise." He laughed. "I only love Sofia, you know that Malik. I would never harm the little puppy wolf." _Yes_ , Malik thought. He was in love only with his young bride – and with all the other women in the world. Ezio was a womanizer and he already had a few guys in his bed either; he could not help it, though Malik thought he was loyal to his wife … whatever that meant in Ezio's case. "But I haven’t seen Connor tonight. Isn’t he working at your club?"

"No. He's got his free day because he needed to prepare something for kindergarten tomorrow." It was as he said. Connor was a sweet child. He joined their family by the age of ten, after his mother had died suddenly. Before that, the poor thing had not even known his father and to Connor it came as a shock what kind of business his family was dealing with. Connor always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, for as long as Malik could remember anyway – but of course, that was not exactly the career path his father had in mind for the boy.

"He knows that he can't do this forever, right?" Ezio then sighed, but Malik jumped when his phone rang.

"Well, speaking of the devil." It was as if Connor new perfectly well that they were talking about him, for he called only rarely. Malik liked this one best of all his other relatives, for his big-hearted nature. But no one should underestimate little Connor that was for sure.

"Oh no, he knows!" Ezio yelped and stifled a laugh, when Malik accepted the call immediately.

"What's up, Connor?" He asked, because Connor always had a very good reason for calling him. Not like Ezio or Kadar. Even Claudia, Ezio's younger sister, sometimes called without any reason at all – to stay in touch with her gloomy Syrian cousin, as she said. He had no clue what that as all about and he did not care.

"Well…" Connor began clearly not sure what to say, but there was some turmoil in the background and somebody screaming bloody murder. "We've got a little problem here…"

A problem. A little problem. A little problem was always something really, really bad, whenever Connor called. Because simply as that: Connor would never call for a problem he could handle himself. So, Malik expected the worst, after Connor told him that he had found Altaїr near the docks. And when Malik finally left his car, he already heard Altaїr shouting like a mad man. Well, at least Malik guessed it must be Altaїr.

"WHAT? ARE YOU AFRAID YOU FUCKING BASTARD?! YEAH COME RIGHT OVER HERE AND I'LL KICK YOUR SORRY ASS!" He was clearly drunk. Of course, Malik did not know Altaїr all too well and he did not know how Altaїr was behaving when he was drunk or even if he would explode like this when he was sober, but he doubted it. Altaїr did not seem like the type of guy who would scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of the street when sober - at least not for no explicable reason. And when Malik finally arrived at the scene and spotted Connor right at the corner of a bar ( _the drunken mermaid)_ , it was clear as daylight that Altaїr was drunk.

Utterly and completely drunk.

If it were not for Connor, he would not be able to stand upright anymore. Well, he was not exactly standing upright anyway. Connor held him, standing behind him, his strong arms shoved under Altaїr's armpits and crossed over his chest. He was a lot taller than Altaїr and while the young father tried to kick at his newly acquired enemies (who were standing a good 5 feet away on the middle of the street and not even nearly in reaching distance of his legs) Connor managed to even lift him a tiny bit from the ground. Under different circumstances, it would look extremely funny.

Altaїr's face was red with rage and he clearly lost his jacket and his beloved grey hoodie somewhere on his little adventure trough (like it seemed) various bars. He was only wearing the dark grey tank top he would often wear underneath his clothes, but he was not shivering. Well, he was too drunk to care; therefore, Malik was shivering all the more in his place. By god, it was nearly November and the air was freezing cold!

"Altaїr, stop it now!" He heard Connor try to soothe him, but it would not help.

"THINK YOU'RE SO TOUGH; HAH?! RUNNING AWAY LIKE A FUCKING PUSSY?!" He saw Connor shooting apologetic looks at the strangers, whispering in the middle of the street and Malik hurried towards them, while he already took off his jacket. When he arrived, the strangers finally went away - slowly, to not enrage the raging father any further - but Altaїr kept yelling things anyone could hardly understand by now. It was only a bunch of gibberish coming out of his mouth, but at least there was no need to lift him into the air anymore.

"Malik, thank god, there you are." Connor huffed when he put Altaїr down. The kindergarten teacher looked disheveled to say the least, but not nearly as bad as Altaїr. The guy really was wasted.

"What happened?" Malik sighed and with Connor's help, he got Altaїr in his suit jacket. It was not an easy task after Altaїr nearly slumped to the ground as soon as Connor let go of him.

"I have no clue." The half-native man stated. "I mean, I just found him nearby, right before I called you. He was already yelling at people for no reason, wielding a letter like a sword. He's got real lucky that he did not have met somebody who would pick up a fight with him right now. He could have been dead! He could've fallen into the water, dear god!"

Malik sighed. "What are you even doing here, Connor? Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad you're here, but … _why_?" Of course, they had other things to worry about, such as getting Altaїr into his car, even though Malik already feared the guy would throw up all over his expensive leather seats.

"My grandpa wanted to meet me down the road at the _one legged pirate_ \- or something like that - and I was right on my way to him, when I found Altaїr." Connor muttered. "You really should get him home, I guess he's done for tonight."

Yes, that he really was. With Connor's help, he carried Altaїr towards his car even though the young father was cursing and muttering under his breath all the way to the car. He was not so very sure if he wanted to have Altaїr on the passenger's seat next to him in case of drunken vomiting, but that way he could have a closer eye on the guy. It was worth the risk he guessed. So with Connor's help he got Altaїr on the passenger's seat and even put on the seatbelt, because by now Altaїr hung rather unmotivated on the seat. After the big drunken baby was taken care of, Malik looked at Connor again and tried a halfhearted grin.

"Thanks, Connor." He sighed. "I will drive him home and try to figure out why he got so wasted in the first place."

"You sure you're alright?" Connor asked, his face just as worried as Malik would have expected of him. He was a good kid. He really was.

"Yeah… It's alright. I guess he will black out any minute now. You go to your grandpa." With that, he patted Connor's back. For the moment, he paused and wanted to say something about this whole Ezio situation, but then he shrugged it off. Sure, Connor was a kid, he was only nineteen and Ezio was good in wooing people into his bed, but Connor was not stupid either. He was a bit naïve when it came to such things, but he would clearly punch Ezio across the room if he would try anything with him. Connor gave him a last short nod, before he took off down the street and Malik got into his car. To his surprise Altaїr was still not blacked out, when they drove off, but as soon as Malik hit the interstate, there was a long and utterly miserable wail.

For a moment Malik was left in confusion about the sound. Did someone put a hurt puppy dog in the backseat of his car? No, surely not. Then the sound happened again and only then, Malik registered it as coming from Altaїr. "Are you hurt?" Malik asked instantly, but Altaїr hastily shook his head with such force Malik was sure he would vomit all over the place any minute now. He did not.

"Noooo… Nooo I'm not huuuuurt." Altaїr then sobbed and he could already see thick crocodile tears streaming down his face. He was left frozen in shock this instant and almost lost his concentration on the road. "I'm not huuuuurt." He repeated with hoarse voice, probably from all the yelling that happened before. "I'm fucking drunk…"

"Yes, I can see that." Malik sighed. "But why did you get wasted anyway?" He tried to speak as calmly as possible, his voice soft as melted butter and it seemed to work, because Altaїr sunk deeper into his seat and a moment later he could feel his head bumping against his shoulder.

"Maria wants to take my kids from me." He sobbed. "She abandoned us and now she wants them back! It's not fair!"

"Maria? You mean … your wife? I thought she was dead." Of course, Malik knew perfectly well that she was not, but Altaїr did not know. Not that it would matter in his current state of intoxication.

"Noooooo… Not my _wife_ … My girlfriend! I wanted to propose to her!" He hiccupped. "Already got the stupid ring! Needed to work extra shifts to pay it. Wanted to ask her if she marries me when Sef was born, but when I came back to the hospital she was already gone. She fucked her ex while I was working to pay her fucking ring." He almost laughed at this, but it was that kind of sound when you are not so sure if you wanted to laugh or bawling your eyes out. "Why can never something good happen in my life?"

"Oh, I know that feeling all too well." Malik sighed when they stopped at a red light and he got the chance to gently pat his head, stroking his fingers through his short, messy hair. "Don’t worry, why should she even get your kids when she clearly left you guys?"

"She knows I'm a stripper!" He whined. "She's got money! Everyone would give her the custody! Who in their right mind would even consider me? I'm just a useless piece of shit, that can't do nothing right! I've gotten a dead opossum in my flat for weeks without noticing it!" Well … "I'm the worst! My kids would be better off without me anyway! I should just jump down fucking - nnngh - Brooklyn Bridge already!"

Malik wanted to slap him, but since that was not going to happen in the small confinements of his car, he did what his brains thought best and grabbed Altaїr's chin to shut him up with one long longing kiss. He did not even know why he did it, but he was aware of the cliché he probably fulfilled with that very kiss. He did not care. All he cared for was the feeling he got from this very moment. Oh, how long had it been since he last got the chance to do something like that?

Altaїr's body reacted like it was the most normal thing and Malik could taste the cheap alcohol on Altaїr's tongue, when he eagerly thrust it into Malik's mouth, not knowing what he did. He was clumsy and sloppy and lazy, but Malik blamed his drunken stupor. Suddenly Altaїr clung to him as if his life was depending on it, his arms snaked around Malik's neck, oh so desperately.

There was a loud honk behind them and when Malik forced open his eyes once more the light had turned green already, so he gently shoved Altaїr back. His cheeks were now wet from Altaїr's tears, but as soon as he drove off again, Altaїr slumped against him once more and Malik could only grin a little bit. It took him a moment to realize that Altaїr was drooling a bit on his shoulder and then another few seconds to register how Altaїr slumped down even deeper towards his lap. When Altaїr's face hit his crotch, his whole body convulsed and the wrenched acidic smell of vomit filled his car.

―――

Altaїr was almost one hundred percent positive his head was going to split in two, when he opened his eyes the very next time. It was not very bright wherever he was laying and he had no clue what even happened to him the last night. Well, other than the obvious of course. He clearly was wasted, only that he forgot the reason for it. At least he did not feel any pain, other than his throbbing head of course, so he had not got into big trouble it seemed. There was a body next to his and Altaїr did what he always did – snuggling a bit closer. But it took him a moment to realize that this was not his son lying next to him. It was too dark to see, but no, definitely not his four year old child.

Altaїr nearly jumped when realization hit him that he was lying next to a guy, but strong arms only wound themselves tighter around his waist and dragged him closer. There was no escape and only slowly – very slowly he was able to piece together what really happened last night. He remembered the letter he got from Ezio, remembered how he escaped the building and strolled through the city, not knowing where to turn to. When darkness hit the city he had felt like total crap, like a real asshole for not picking up his children and he instantly turned off his phone, after seeing all the calls he had missed of Desmond and Connor. Surely, his son had bawled his eyes out because his daddy left him behind without a word.

So he did what every responsible father would have done in this situation: He went to the docks and got wasted. Yes, his grandma would be very proud of him. But how did he get here? And where was _here_? Well, it seemed quite obvious to him that he had been taken home by some stranger to get fucked or something. But he was not naked, that he could feel. He was wearing some kind of pants at least, even though his chest was naked. And he could not feel naked skin, when the guy grabbed him closer, only soft fabric and something – a beard maybe? – tickling his forehead. Weird.

Somewhere outside the still buzzing and twirling world of his head, he could hear a faint squeak, sounding almost like a door being opened very slowly. "Daddy?" This time he really jumped and freed himself from the snuggling man next to him when he almost fled from the bed. His headache almost instantly brought him to his knees. He felt sick, he felt like he was about to puke all over the place. This was clearly death. Yes, he was dead and now he had went straight to hell. So he just slumped back onto the mattress, burying his face in the mattress. Served him right for leaving his kids behind. No wonder Maria wanted to get them. She surely knew that he was not at all able to take care of them. Well, she was right. They would have it better with their mother for sure. "Are you still sleeping?" The voice sounded again. It was clearly not Darim, oh no. the voice was quieter, shyer, tinier than Darim's voice, but it was so dark inside the room that Altaїr had a hard time making out where the owner of the voice was.

It turned out that the little person was standing right in front of the bed, because in the next moment Altaїr felt movement and heard the rustling of the bed sheets. "No…" A husky voice on the bed finally sounded. "I'm awake, Tazim… What's wrong?"

"Is Uncle Altaїr feeling better now?" _No_ , Altaїr thought. _Uncle Altaїr is fucking confused_. So he was with Malik? But why? And how? Did he manage to call him in his stupor? When Malik turned on the light on his bedside table Altaїr almost immediately shoved his head under the pillow for he could not stand the light. A long moan was all that could be heard of him and he was not even ashamed because of it.

"No, I think he is still a little sick, buddy." Malik murmured when Tazim obviously crawled next to his father to get a little snuggly. Under different circumstances, Altaїr would have thought about Tazim and Malik's relationship, but now he just wanted to die.

"Is this why he needed to sleep in your bed, Daddy?"

"Yes…" Malik groaned. "You know how you want to sleep in my bed too when you're sick, right?"

"Yes…"

Malik hummed a little. "Good. He's still not feeling well, honey. He needs a little rest." Tazim seemed to understand, because the next moment Altaїr could again hear the rustling of the bedsheets and felt the movement, this little earthquake, when Tazim crawled off the bed again.

"I'll go and tell Darim that he doesn’t need to worry about him then." The little guy announced but immediately strolled out of the room and closed the door behind him again. It took a few seconds before there was Malik's big hand resting on the small of his naked back.

"You okay?" Malik murmured, still sleepy and not at all like the guy Altaїr normally encountered. It was as if he would change his personality when he was getting rid of his suit and tie. Malik's hand was warm and soft on his skin and it did not even feel uncomfortable how he was touching him. Weird.

"Nooo…" Altaїr then moaned from under his pillow. "My head is going to explode…" He was merely whispering but his own voice was making his headache all the more worse. "What happened?"

And with that Malik told him what had happened. When he spoke he did it with a soft voice and as quiet as possible, but the more he told him, the more Altaїr wanted to suffocate himself. So he did get wasted and picked a fight with some stranger and it was his luck that Connor had been around to help him not get himself killed. Great. Yes, his grandma really would be proud of him.

"Did we… Did we do anything?" Altaїr finally stammered and the pause that followed was way too long for his liking, before Malik patted his back gently. "No." His boss then said. "But you puked in my car, so I needed to wash you and get you changed. I didn’t want your son to witness your current state, so I took you in for the night."

"Oh god…could you please just kill me?" Altaїr then whined. His ears were not just hot, they were ablaze. His whole head was fire and he only wanted to crawl under the bed, but Malik chuckled and stroked his back as if it was the most normal thing to do. Well, Altaїr liked it. When Malik softly rubbed his back he felt a little better.

"It's okay." Malik murmured. "You are not the first guy I've seen naked and you are not the first guy to puke in my car. Believe me, Kadar is far worse when he's drunk."

Altaїr was silent for a minute and then: "I never got dunk before…" – "Really?" – "No … never liked the taste." And then there were his children. Before he got them he was only seventeen and not allowed to drink. Normally he would give a shit about what he was allowed to do and what not, but he did not want to get Rauf and his parents in trouble so he did not. And after his kids … No. He needed to deal with other things than drinking. "I guess I'm not a good role model." He sighed and slowly came out from under his pillow, even though he regretted it the next moment when the dim light hit his eyes. Fuck.

"Don’t worry about that." Malik sighed. "You're only human and I would’ve done the same after a letter like this."

"Oh god… I told you about the letter?"

"No, I found it. You just told me that your ex-girlfriend wants your kids."

"Did you read it?"

"No…" Yes he did. Altaїr was not even angry. After all, the guy washed him and changed his clothes after he probably puked all over him!

"It alright…" Altaїr then murmured, but did not move a bit again. He just enjoyed Malik rubbing his tense back. "She's married now… Married this fucker her parents always wanted her to marry… And suddenly she remembers her kids."

It was not fair. He didn’t even know what he did to the letter or where it was now and how should he speak with Darim about this? Surely, the boy would rather stay with his mother, right? And Sef? He needed his mother, even though he did not even know her.

"Don’t worry. She won't get them." Malik assured him, but they both knew that this was not true, it was nice for him to lie though. But at the end of the day Altaїr was only a stripper and he did not have the money he needed to raise his children on his own. The court would grant custody to Maria and if he was lucky he would be allowed to see them every second weekend until she and Robert would have alienated his kids from him. It would be a bit harder with Darim, but with Sef? The boy was not even a year old. He would soon forget him.

Yes … why didn’t he just jump off Brooklyn Bridge?

"I've got a job for you." Malik said, because pondering about this topic would not help. Altaїr could do nothing to prevent all this from happening and they all knew this. If he would get rid of his debts though … If he would have enough money to hire the best lawyer in town though… "It’s a private gig for one dear friend of mine." But Malik's words were full of venom. "Don’t worry, I'll be there to have an eye on things. You only need to dance."

But Altaїr wanted to do more than just dance for some guy. He wanted to make money, as much and as fast as he could so the court would not have a stripper asking for the custody of his children. He was desperate and he only wanted to drown in his despair. He did not want to fight any more. He was tired of this. But then again, he could not give up his children, right? At least he needed to try. He did not want them to think their father did not fight for them.

It was much later that day, when his headache finally vanished and he was getting ready for this private dance. He did not even know what kind of person this was he needed to dance for, but he did not care anyway. Darim had been angry with him the whole day and Altaїr could not bring himself to tell him what had happened and that his mother finally made a move. Every time he wanted to speak to him about this he was confronted with those big blue eyes, Maria's eyes, and he could not do it.

He did not even could tell Desmond or Shaun – or anyone for that matter. He tried to avoid talking about it all together and he did not look at the letter again, after Malik put it in his room. He just wanted to ignore the bloody thing and as long as Maria would not know where he was staying at, she would not be able to steal his children from him. Back then, he had been so incredible naïve and he knew that now. A small part of him really wanted to believe that Maria loved him at one point, perhaps a little bit at least. But then again … He now knew that Maria only searched for an idiot like him to get her freedom. Perhaps she liked him. Perhaps she was attracted to him back then. Perhaps she really had been in love with him, though not as madly as he. Perhaps not all of it had been a lie. Yet she wanted to take the kids from him as if it meant nothing. She gave him the family he always wanted only to take it from him again, as if it meant nothing.

He wanted to drive home to Boston. He wanted to raid her home. He wanted to make her pay. He wanted to hurt her the very same way she had hurt him – but that he could not. She would never understand what she did to him and maybe he should focus on the future and forget her. Yes. He should. But how could he when she was raiding his life again and turning all upside down?

"Hey there sugar." This moment he almost punched Kadar across the jaw when the guy was suddenly right behind him, but he did not, instead he turned around only to find him grinning right in front of him, their faces mere inches from each other, so close in fact that their noses almost touched. He made a small grimace at this and wondered if he had really been so lost in thought that he had not heard him coming.

"What do you want?" Oh, he would not deal with Kadar's bullshit right now. By now, he was sure Malik would not even mind him punching Kadar. But then again, he probably should not make the mistake in underestimating him. He was a mobster after all, right? He sure was no little girl when it came to fighting.

Kadar's grin only widened, but he raised his hands in defense when he stepped back a bit. "Whoa there, I don't want anything. Well of course, my offer still stands, but that’s not why I'm here." His offer, yes, Altaїr remembered. Half a million, right? Half a million dollar for one night. This really was something.

"So why are you here then?" Altaїr sighed when he was finished with changing. Malik brought the belly dancer costume with him and Altaїr was quite glad that he would not have to get naked in front of this stranger.

"I will accompany you tonight. Well, you and Malik of course." Kadar smirked but grabbed for Altaїr's short vest and pulled a little bit on it as if he really wanted to fix him. Altaїr on the other hand thought he just wanted to grope him. He did not really care anyway now. He still did not feel all that good, but Malik granted him a quiet day and he had been lying around useless for the most part of the day anyway. Yet he could not really forget how nice it had felt when Malik rubbed his back.

"The heavens know no mercy I guess." Altaїr groaned, but then he looked towards the window. It was already dark outside and the kids were asleep already. Surely, Darim had not been happy to hear his father would wander off again tonight to leave him behind. During the day Altaїr learned that Desmond had picked Darim up and later brought them to Malik's place where the nanny had taken care of things. He would have kept the boys, but after he did not hear about Altaїr, he thought it best to bring them to the nanny in case of emergency. Altaїr still felt like crap for worrying them all so much. At least he should have called.

"So… Did you think about my offer?" Kadar then asked and Altaїr would have expected nothing else from him as well. Of course, the guy was persistent as a bug. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say Kadar should go fuck himself. He wanted to tell Malik, he wanted to make clear that he was not gay and that he would not sell himself. Not even for half a million dollar, but then he looked towards the clock again and he knew that Malik would be here to pick them up any minute now. He did not know much about the guy he was dancing for tonight, only that he was a very rich man and that Malik did not like him. That much Altaїr did understand after Malik told him a tiny bit about him.

"Half a million, you said?" Altaїr then asked when his amber eyes finally locked with Kadar's blue ones. He did not want this. He really, really did not. And he could not believe what he was doing.

"Yes." Kadar then grinned, victory already written all over his face. He wanted to puke again, but this time not because of alcohol.

"Make it a million."


	12. Maria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the following halfnaked DessiDesomond is again Arrrr's reward!

He should have known. He really, really should have known that it would come to this at some point when dealing with a mobster. Still, Altaїr watched in horror as Abu'l Nuqoud was coughing up blood violently, while he was squirming and jerking on his expensive marble floor. There was blood nearly everywhere by now and Altaїr just stood there in the middle of the room, sweat making his skin damp and cold while he had to watch how the man died, while his blood was gushing from his wounds, covering the stone floor in thick puddles. Almost instinctively, Altaїr slowly stumbled back, his naked feet padding on the stone, as he tried to escape the bloody mess on the floor.

The knife fell from his hands to the floor and he felt the bile rising in his throat, tasted the acidic burn in his esophagus. He wanted to run, but he was frozen on the spot. Not because he was afraid. No. no, he really was not. That, right there on the floor was his doing. Well, not quite, but it was at least partly his doing. Yet he did not feel fear.

"It's alright." Malik murmured right behind him before he crouched down and got the knife from the marble floor. "It's alright." He repeated and put the knife trough his belt loop to take it with them. Of course, it got Altaїr's fingerprints on it. Malik's fingers brushed over his left cheek and Altaїr did not even flinch. It was not his first time seeing someone die. He had witnessed the death of his grandpa and of his grandma. And this guy, oh, this guy, he didn’t deserve any better for the things Altaїr had heard him brag about. He was the scum of the earth and all Altaїr did do was to protect himself from this raging bull when he understood that he had been poisoned. Poisoned, the very same way he had done it to his victims.

"I just killed a guy." Altaїr stammered, but he felt pathetic. He should not stammer. He was no whiny little bitch. But … But he killed a guy.

"No, you didn’t." Malik murmured his mouth close – too close – at Altaїr's left ear and his right arm snaking around Altaїr's waist. "I did. You just protected yourself. Nobody would die from such a small wound. I promise." Malik was not the same guy than he was before. He was like the snake in the Garden of Eden and the knife in his belt loop was the apple. "He deserved it. Do not worry about it. He got what he deserved and nobody will come after you for this."

"He's got cameras all over the place!" Altaїr shrieked. "He's got staff all over the place!" They passed at least three security guards on their way from the front gate to the driveway on the patio until they arrived in the salon. There were numerous house cleaners and cooks working all over the house. This would not go undetected.

"Don’t worry about stuff like this Altaїr. It's my job to cover up such things." It was his job. Yes, that was the exact problem. He was working for a mobster now. He was the plaything of a mobster now. Malik could just kill him right on the spot and Altaїr almost expected him to slit his throat with the knife Altaїr used before. He did not. Instead, Malik dragged him gently towards the large doors and out of the pompous salon.

Abu'l Nuqoud had been an extravagant man and only when Malik introduced Altaїr to this guy he understood that it was him he delivered the invitation to – or the letter – whatever. At least he had died like he lived – plentiful. His stomach was full of delicious food, with grapes and chicken and cake standing all around the salon, surrounded by all the riches he scattered through his shady business. Altaїr still did not know much about him, but the things he did know were enough and he would probably keep dreaming about this night for months.

As if it was the most normal thing, Malik wandered into the front hallway and closed the door to the salon behind them. It was complete silence inside the mansion, but Altaїr just wanted to run and he was not even sure if he wanted to know what happened to the employees of Abu'l. When they moved towards the front door, they passed a small fleet of stairs to their left and one of the many young housekeepers sat slumped over on the last step. Altaїr immediately stopped, but Malik chuckled.

"He's asleep. Do you really think I would have let all of those innocent people being killed? Don’t worry, they are all drugged." He said this with such confidence! Still, Altaїr freed himself with one last gloomy look at Malik's face to step closer towards the young man and felt his pulse. He was alive and only grunted and drooled a bit when Altaїr pulled his head back up a little.

Still, when he turned around to face Malik again he growled, his brows knotted together into an almost straight line in fury. "You fucking used me!" He hissed, but Malik only raised his left eyebrow and grabbed for him again.

"I didn’t use you." He demanded when Altaїr escaped his attempt on grabbing him. "Look, you can make a fuss about it all you want, but when you really don’t want to get caught, we need to get going now. After all, you just stabbed a guy right in the gut."

"Is this a joke for you?" Altaїr groaned when Malik finally got to grab him again and dragged him through the front door and onto the driveway. Their car still was parked right in front of the entrance, so they went down the steps right away. It was not the usual black BMW Malik always drove (of course, it was not for Altaїr just puked in it last night) and Altaїr did not care enough about cars to find interest in it.

"No, I'm dead serious." Malik smirked, but Altaїr could not find anything amusing about this. Not right now anyway. No. Not with Abu'l's blood still on his hands - well, figuratively speaking for there was – surprisingly - not even a single drop of blood on him. Not that he could see anyway. But he felt as if he was covered in it.

They got in the car quickly, when they reached it, but Kadar was not yet with them again. "Where is Kadar?" Altaїr whispered though he had no clue why he did whisper. Suddenly he noticed how terribly cold he was out here in Malik's car, still covered in sweat from his performance and with just his belly dancing costume on. Oh, there was no way he would wear this thing ever again. No way. He was done with this. He was done with Malik, done with the _Plan B_ , done with working for a mobster. Malik seemed as calm as ever when he started the engine of his car and slowly drove off the property. "Don’t worry about him, he will meet us soon."

Kadar never walked into the mansion with them in the first place. It had been just Malik and him since they passed the main gate to the property, but Kadar had been with them until up to a mile before they reached the mansion, before he darted into the woods surrounding the property. Malik really didn’t seem to be worried about his baby brother at all, so that either meant Malik didn’t care about Kadar all that much or that he had faith in Kadar's skills.

"I fucking stabbed a guy…" Altaїr sighed and then took a deep breath. All did happen so fucking fast! They had been led into the house by Abu'l's main butler and then led straight into the salon where the fat guy already waited for them, all decorated as cliché as possible for the Arabian nights' theme. Even he had been dressed like a really overweight version of Aladdin … or rather Jasmine's father (whatever his name was). He invited Malik to eat and drink with him while they would talk about the business and watch Altaїr dance. Abu'l didn’t worry even a tiny bit about them while he had feasted and watched him with his big, wet eyes like a hungry bear.

He had hated every single second of this. Of course, the customers of the _Plan B_ also watched him like hungry beasts, but it was different. Abu'l was a creepy guy and every time Altaїr got near him he tried to grope at him or his costume. Of course, it was his job to play along, to flirt with him for the show's sake, but he had noticed the way Malik was looking at them, hatred flaming in his eyes, not only for Abu'l intervening with their business.

"Yes you did and I just poisoned a guy." Malik replied while driving casually through the black night and the surrounding forest road. Altaїr almost expected people jumping from the trees and attacking their car, but nothing like that happened. For now. "But believe me, the poison had been way more painful for him than your little stibby-stabby with this lame butter knife." He was trying to tease him, to lift his spirits so he would not feel as guilty anymore. "Other than this he could've killed you if you wouldn’t have stabbed him." At least that was true because Altaїr doubted he would have survived the attack the guy started on him as soon as he realized that he had been poisoned.

Whatever this poison was that Malik used - Altaїr sure as hell did not want to ever come in contact with it. "It looked painful..." He finally agreed.

"It was and he deserved no better." Malik muttered, his eyes focusing on the street ahead.

"I quit."

"Yeah sure, you do."

"Why even bothering with killing him?"

"What do you mean? Haven't you been listening to this sick asshole?"

"Of course. But … I mean … The Mob aren't exactly the good guys either…"

Malik finally pulled the car over and stopped, turning the headlights off. He had no clue how far away they were, but Malik surely had everything under control, because he always had. "You are right. We are not the good guys. We kill people with poison that makes them cough out their organs in liquid form. We rip them apart, we cut off body parts and send them to their families, we threat people, we buy the police or judges if we need to, and we do not play _fair_. The Al-Sayfs are dealing with weapons for decades now. We ship them to warzones so children can get shot with them or shoot them. The Auditores are big in the blackmailing business and the Kenways are the best black market traders I have ever encountered. We are no nice guys. Giovanni did not intend to murder Abu'l at first only because Abu'l was intervening with some of our businesses. But he did after his son Federico dug a little deeper." Malik crossed his arms over his steering wheel and leaned a bit forward, resting the left side of his face on the bloody thing so he could look at Altaїr. "You heard him talk. You heard him brag about those kids he liked to bribe back home in Syria and even here in New York. If he would have gotten the chance he would have gotten your son to do whatever pleases him. A guy like him, a guy with money but an ugly façade is dangerous. But that’s not the reason I wanted to kill him with this particular poison."

"Then why? And why make me watch?"

"Well first, I didn’t intend you to watch. I thought we would be out there when the poison would start to affect his body. Sorry for that." Altaїr was not so sure, if he really was sorry or if he was saying that just for show. Probably even both, so he snorted. "Three months ago Tazim's nanny at that time was murdered in my house - well, my old house. It was clearly that whoever did this searched for something and did not find it. She should not have been there at that time because I have picked up Tazim that afternoon and wanted to spend the day with him - to my luck, might I say - but she had not read the message and so she waited at home for us. Turned out whoever raided my house wanted to get Tazim to have a bargain on me and the family. After this, we moved into the new house, got a few new nannies and better security for all of us. Now, what has that to do with Abu'l Nuqoud you might ask? Well, Federico found out that he had been behind this. Of course not alone, but he was the main player who wanted to kidnap my son and do whatever to him. That’s why I wanted to have him suffer."

This was something Altaїr could very well comprehend. If somebody would want to do anything to his children, he would make them suffer until they wished they had never been born or made the mistake to fuck with him. Yes, his kids… For a moment, he was completely silent, only because a thought crossed his mind, but he was too shocked about the ways his brain was now wandering to say it out loud. But then again, there sat a man right next to him with no scruple whatsoever to kill someone. He could get rid of his problem with Maria and all he needed to do was ask.

All he needed to do was ask Malik if he could deal with this situation. He would not need to know _how_. He did not want her to suffer. _Oh for fuck's sake! Are you mental? Do you want to explain that to your children one day?! They have a right of having their mother in their life! You do know perfectly well how life is without a mother!_ Yes, this was insane. It was. But there was still Kadar, still their little deal. One Million for one night. All he needed to do was to lie down and let him have what he wanted so desperately. One million was enough to find a good lawyer, to get decent interior, to get nice clothes, to make a good impression. He could do this. He did not need to kill his ex-girlfriend and her damned husband for that.

Right?

"So, about Maria…" Malik started, just when the door behind Altaїr was opened and a body fell heavily into the car. Kadar was completely out of breath it seemed, but he was laughing like a mad idiot when he pulled his door shut.

"Well, that was fun!" The young man huffed as his brother started the engine once more and pulled back onto the road to drive off. Altaїr turned around as good as possible to look at the man lying sprawled out on the back seat. Kadar was clutching his completely black backpack. In the darkness of the surrounding wood he had been almost invisible with his black clothes and the hood pulled over his head, but now his face was wet from sweat and he still grinning like an idiot. "Hey there, Sugar. Good to see you again." He chuckled, but Altaїr only rolled his eyes.

"I hope you got everything." Malik snorted from behind the steering wheel.

"Sure thing. No traces of you guys left. It's like Abu'l was killed by a ghost." Turned out Kadar was a little mastermind when it came to everything electronically and IT. Altaїr already had a hard time dealing with his new phone (Desmond's old phone) and still had not figured out how to install or delete an app. Kadar on the other hand … Well, he was quite a mouth full. He clearly was not stupid, but Altaїr would have never guessed him to be a pro hacker and absolute expert in his field of profession. Perhaps Malik was even a little bit proud when he explained all this to Altaїr later, after they kicked out the younger Al-Sayf in front of his penthouse, but he did his very best to not show any traces of brotherly pride. That was indeed normal, he guessed.

When they arrived at Malik's house, it was almost as if nothing had happened at all. Should he tell his cousin about this? Well, surely not. He hated having secrets he could not tell Desmond about. They talked about absolutely everything ever! They talked about heartache and stupid fights! He even talked with him about Shaun grabbing his ass once! But murdering a guy - or helping someone murder some guy - was off limits he guessed.

The house was completely dark, with exception for the light coming from the living room. Altaїr did not want to go in there. He just wanted to go upstairs to his children, but he stopped right at the living room door and looked inside. Connor was lying on the couch and first he thought the big guy had fallen asleep, but he had not. He was petting Pringles, that motherfucking completely black cat Altaїr only rarely saw for now.

Malik had asked Connor to come over to look after the kids instead of Tazim's nanny and assured him that he would always ask Connor for something like this when he was out doing … well … what he just did. No reason not to trustConnor, after all he was their kindergarten teacher. When Connor noticed him in the door he just smiled a little and sat up straight, Pringles still on his lap, even though the cat didn’t seem very pleased about this change in position. "Did everything go according to plan?" Connor asked and sounded a lot like they were discussing some mediocre task.

"Yes." Malik replied when he stepped into the living room and past Altaїr. For a moment, the young father just wanted to take off upstairs, but then he followed Malik anyway and sat down heavily on the carpet. Perhaps it was better if he would not go to his kids just yet, not when he was still feeling like absolute crap about what had happened. "And here?"

"Kids are sleeping." Connor chuckled. "Sef woke up a few times, so I kept him with me. Just put him to bed a few minutes ago. So did you recover from yesterday?" He did not grin or made fun of him in any way, but yet Altaїr felt his ears grew hot again. He was still a little bit embarrassed about this whole ordeal of last night. He was a father of two children, no matter that he was only twenty-two years old, he had responsibilities and could not simply got wasted and leave his kids behind.

"Yeah…" He then muttered. "Thanks for helping me last night."

"It's alright." Connor smiled. Of course, first Altaїr had been skeptical when he saw this giant taking care of children in kindergarten and then having him working as a bouncer at a gay strip club, but Connor was a teddy. Surely, he was not always like that but he had a big heart when it came to kids, that was for sure. When he got up, Pringles jumped onto the sofa with a long last displeased grunt, only to jump on Malik's lap, as soon as his owner sat down on the sofa. "Well, I better get going now." Connor smiled and stifled a yawn.Altaїr felt sorry when Connor left them, but sure he needed towork the next day, so they just said goodbye and hen Connor was already gone. Left him with Malik…

He could not help but think about Kadar's offer again, but as soon as the front door fell shut Malik sighed deeply, his eyes fixed on the television thatwas still running. Some infomercial was still running, but Altaїr doubted that Connor had been interested in buying the phenomenal new Wonderbra presented by an overly excited TV-Hostess. "So about Maria." Malik began again as if he had not just murdered a guy and Altaїr slumped down on the carpet. This whole situation was absurd! He still wore his costume and he did not care at all. He did not want to talk or think about Maria. He did not want to talk or think about Abu'l. He wanted nothingness and peace. Yet he felt as if he should be way more upset about having stabbed a guy. Perhaps it was like Malik said: He deserved it. Perhaps it was just the normality that radiated from Malik causing him to not be as upset as he should be. "What are you going to do about her?"

"I do nothing _about_ her." Altaїr snarled. "I can't do anything to prevent her from involving the court, but I will not give up without a fight."

"I expected you to say that." Malik smirked and patted the sofa cushion next to him, inviting him to sit with him, but Altaїr remained where he was – at least for a moment.

"I always thought I would hate her, after she just left without a word. But I just can't."

"She's the mother of your children; of course you can't hate her." Of course, Altaїr thought, because if it was not for Maria, he would not have his kids and his life would be empty and lonely – but he would not have stabbed a guy then either. No matter how he would turn it over and over in his head, the result always was the same.

"She hasn’t even left me a message, can you believe that? I was just gone for not even a whole hour to get Darim so he could meet his baby brother for the first time and then she was just gone. I stayed there for hours with them boys, hoping she would come back, but she never did and not even her parents knew where she was. Well, at least that was what they told me. They covered for her, I'm sure of that. They were probably glad she finally got rid of me and of the kids. She used me and I was stupid enough to let this happen."

"You couldn’t have known." Malik murmured when Altaїr finally jumped up and strolled through the living room, restless like a caged animal.

"Of course I could’ve known! I did know! I knew right from the start that she was playing with me, but I simply didn’t want to see it." He sighed and ruffled his hair. "I was so fucking dumb back then. She always wanted to leave her strict parents, she alwayswanted to rebel against their believes and against the things that were planned for her life by them. I was the perfect candidate for this and her parents hated me with passion. I should have known! Rauf's mom knew! She told me! Fucking everybody told me! But I was so full of myself back then, that I simply would not listen to them! I guess I deserve everything that happened to me since then."

Malik took a deep breath, but he stayed where he was and did not try anything with Altaїr, knowingly that Altaїr would not let him anyway. "Everyone deserves at least something good in their lives."

"Did Abu'l too?" Altaїr hissed almost instantly and he did not even know why he suddenly felt so tense and angry.

"You are a good guy, Altaїr." But the young father just waved dismissively at him in his anger.

"Yeah of course I am! That’s why nothing good ever happens to me, right? The good guy never gets the girl or the career he wants. The good guy is always treated like complete shit. Perhaps I should follow your example then."

This time it was Malik who jumped up and bridged the distance between them. Before Altaїr could really do anything about it the Mobster grabbed his face firmly with both his hands and looked him straight in the eye. Still the flickering light of the TV was their only source of illumination and the bright light was casting unnatural shadows on Malik's face, let his dark brown eyes appear almost black. "You are perfect just the way you are, don’t let anyone tell you something different, you understand? You have not the balls to be a killer anyway."

Well at least that was true, no matter how much Altaїr wanted to protest. He was no killer. He was no criminal. He could never harm anyone. Well he could. He did. He was able to stab someone if necessary and he could learn how to kill, how to be a gangster, how to be bad. But was this what he wanted?

"I have." He growled and Malik smirked. For a moment he was almost positive that Malik was going to kiss him, but then the guy gently slapped his cheek and stepped back again.

"No you don’t and that’s a good thing."

Perhaps it was.

There were small shuffling steps coming from the hallway and just when Altaїr turned around he spotted his oldest child standing there with his teddy – with Altaїr's old teddy – in his arms, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Daddy?" Darim yawned.

"Yes, I'm right here, buddy." He answered. Before he went to pick up Darim to get him back to bed he looked at Malik again, unsure what to think of this whole situation. He had no clue what Malik thought about him or all this or if he perhaps even planned on doing something to Maria already. Then again, why should he? He was just his employee.

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Waking up that very morning Desmond really expected anything to happen. He would not be surprised if Santa Clause would climb through his bedroom window and ask him to be his elf because he desperately needed the additional help this year. He would not be surprised to find a pack of wolfs lounging in his living room either. What he did not expect was that his doorbell rang so very early in the morning. But there it was: loud and clear and made Shaun next to him groan in agony. Perhaps they overdid it a bit last night with the new cocktails Desmond tried to make and let him taste.

"What the bloody hell…" The brit groaned helplessly into his pillow when the doorbell rang again, before he bit down on the innocent thing. "If that's your stupid cousin, I'll gouge his eyes out." Shaun was no morning person under normal circumstances either but when he was hungover he was the worst to deal with. Desmond on the other hand normally had no problem of getting up early and going on his usual jogging rounds before sun had even risen – but not today.

"Desmond, go to the bloody door already!" Shaun whined when the bell rang a third time. It could not be Altaїr. Altaїr would not ring the doorbell so early in the morning. He had a key after all and if he came to raid their place so early in the day he would use his keys and not ring them out of bed. So Desmond got up yawning and scratching his lower back. Like always he was only wearing his boxer shorts for sleeping and he did no care at all who would need to see an unshaved, half-naked, sleepy bartender as soon as he would open the door.

"I swear to god if its Jehovah's witnesses again I will slap them." He muttered when he shuffled though his apartment to get to the door before it could ring again - Because if the doorbell would ring again, he would not be able to stop a bloodbath from happening. The hardwood floor was incredibly cold under his naked feet, but this was not very uncommon by the end of October in New York, so he just hurried to the door for he wanted to go back to his warm bed as fast as possible, so he could torture Shaun with his cold, cold feet.

Those thoughts were soon to be forgotten forever, when Desmond finally opened his apartment door without looking though the peephole first, a curse dying on his lips, when he was met with almost ocean blue eyes right in front of him.

Maria Thorpe had never been his favorite candidate for his baby cousin to date. Sure, he rarely met her during the cause of those four to five years they were a couple, simply because Desmond did not want to meet her all too often. He was quite sure this apathy was mutual. Last he saw Maria when she had been pregnant with Sef, when he went to Boston for Christmas – his mother's last sorry attempt of bringing father and son together again. She had not changed much since. She was still a rather short girl but undoubtedly beautiful. If he were not gay, he would understand his cousin for falling in love with her and getting over protective not only for her but for their relationship. She still had those dark brown curls framing her face, still those bright, flashing eyes and still this adamant look on her face, as if the whole world belonged to her and she was free to do whatever she pleased. Desmond always thought that Maria was this _princess-type_ of girl, an only child for her parents that always got what she wanted.

"Good Morning, Desmond." Even her voice was still the same – quite deep for a girl, with a heavy British accent, but soft and smooth as velvet. She was wearing a dark blue coat which looked almost more expensive than Shaun's stupid car and black shoes so high no mother would ever wear them. But it seemed she still refused to wear dresses and skirts for she was wearing a simple washed out blue jeans. "Can I come in? It is quite cold outside." She smiled (and she got a rather beautiful smile, full teeth and everything), but Desmond could only shiver about her whole demeanor and not so much because of the cold inside the flat for Shaun leaving all the windows open during the night.

"Well…" He started. "It's quite early, don’t you think? You just woke me up! Maybe you should come back later." This whole situation was suddenly so very surreal that he was almost sure he must be dreaming. He always had vivid dreams! One time he woke up standing by the stove because in his dream he had been making Pancakes for breakfast – only that it had been two in the morning at the time Shaun woke him, right as he was about to turn on the stove! Or he used to talk a lot in his sleep, sometimes absolute random nonsense and then he would have an entire conversation with Shaun! Sure he was dreaming this now.

But he was not. That was the worst part. When Maria put her hand on his naked arm, she was very much real. "Sadly I don’t have time to come back later. I apologize for the early invasion, but I just arrived here and there is a lot to do for me." With that, she gently pushed him aside to invite herself in. Yes, she always was like this, he remembered. That was also the way she invited herself into Altaїr's life only that his cousin did not know what was happening to him back then, when he had called Desmond heart-eyed to tell him all about this girl.

With a heavy but raspy sigh he closed the door, after Maria walked passed him as if this apartment was hers. "Do you want-" He stopped himself. _Oh no_. There was no way he would ask her if she wanted anything to drink! _No fucking way!_ He was not her obedient dog! And he would not ask her if she wanted to sit down too! **No!** "So, why are you here?" He then asked, even though he began to feel a bit naked and exposed. After all, he must be her type, right?

He crossed his arms in front of his still naked, but very defined chest and leant back against the wall right next to his kitchen, when he eyed her up (and not so very much discreetly one might say). At least she knew he did not like her and she surely was not stupid enough to think he would gladly welcome her here after what she did to his little cousin. No. Stupid was not what Maria was. Calculating … Yes, that was the right word.

"Isn't that obvious?" She asked and crossed her arms herself in front of her chest, after she realized that Desmond would not fake polite friendliness just for the sake of this. Well fuck her; it was not even seven AM! "Of course I want to see my kids."

"Of course." Desmond snorted.

"Yes, of course!" She growled, wide-eyed and angry at his sarcastic tone.

"Yes, I bet you missed them so dearly you bawled your eyes out every day since you just left them behind, right?"

"Yes I did!" She tried to make herself a little bit taller in standing straight and heaving her weight balanced on both her feet. "I know that what I did was not right! But I did not know what to do and I knew that Altaїr is a great father! I knew they would be in good hands with him!"

"You didn’t know what to do? How about telling him the truth? How about telling him that you did not love him and that you want to break up with him? How about having the balls to be there for your kids or at least leaving him a message explaining what happened!" He was furious. He wanted to start yelling and screaming or punching her. He was so angry for his cousin and for the heartbreak, Altaїr needed to suffer because of this girl. He was so angry for he knew Maria would leave him, for he knew it would be inevitable for Altaїr being left with a broken heart and a scar so deep it would never fade and yet, though he was the older one, though he swore he would protect him, he did not manage to protect him.

"I-"

"NO!" Desmond shouted and he did not even care if this would cause Shaun to join them and he did not care that Maria flinched. "Do you have any idea what you made Altaїr and _your kids_ go through because of your selfishness?!"

"I wasn’t selfish! I just- I..."

"You _what_?"

"I didn’t know how to break it to him! He bought me a ring for crying out loud! We were constantly fighting and getting on each other's throats, yet he bought me a bloody ring to marry me!" The worst part was that was Maria was right. They never had a future, Altaїr and her. They were destined to fail right from the start.

"So you decided to just run off!"

"I didn’t just run off! I tried to tell him! I really tried to tell him that I was seeing Robert again, but he wouldn’t listen!"

"Yes, because he _loved_ you!"

"He didn’t love me, Desmond!" She hissed. "He just thought he did! He wanted a family and he wanted to force me into this so he would have one!" And again she was right. He knew she was right. They both knew. Even Altaїr knew.

"So why didn’t you just abort then without telling him anything about the baby?"

"I am not here to discuss this with you, Desmond."

"Then _why_ are you her?"

"I just want you to tell me where he and my kids are."

Desmond could not help when he started laughing, though he already heard Shaun approaching the scene in the worst mood ever and even he stopped dead in his track and suddenly sober, when he spotted Maria. "You really think I would give you their address? You must be insane!"

"I have a right to see my children!"

"You have a right to go fuck yourself!" Desmond did not think, he just ripped open the apartment door again, before he grabbed Maria by the arm and dragged her towards it only to shove her right out of his flat. She was not fast enough to get her foot between the door and the threshold when he slammed it shut (and he would not have cared if her foot would be crushed between it) and turned off the bell immediately.

Oh, he felt so fucking satisfied when she started banging on his door. He had no clue how she found him and he did not care either. "I think I just had a hallucination of _Maria Thorpe_ standing in our apartment." Shaun muttered and his voice was worn and husky. He was not even wearing his glassesyet, when he snaked his arms around his stomach, standing behind him and planting a chaste kiss on his temple. "Good job." Shaun murmured, because it did not happen all that often that Desmond would behave like this. He was always the calm one, but now his blood was boiling with fury. He wanted to go out there and punch her right in the face.

"You do know she won't give up like this, right?" Desmond sighed and Shaun nodded, before he rested his chin on his shoulder. "We need to tell Altaїr."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I announced on tumblr already, I will be on vacation for the next two weeks starting today. I'll go to Italy with my family like every year and thus I don't know yet how often I will have the time to write, but next chapter is already started and my mom even brought a keyboard for her tablet so I can write. Let's see how that will work out, shall we?  
> Anyway lots of love and a big thank you for all of you beautiful people for showing me so much support trhough your comments, you make me keep on going, honeys! <3


	13. given and denied

Altaїr knew that something was off, when he walked down the white narrow hallway, the smell of disinfectant burning in his nostrils. There was nothing he could pinpoint this feeling at, but there just was this little voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him something was horribly, horribly wrong. Oh this feeling deep down in his guts! How much he hated it! But Darim was babbling little nonsense on his arm, exited for the things lying ahead while his young father carried him towards the door his mother was. When he reached the door to Maria's room he knew his world would turn upside down, as soon as he would open it and so he hesitated.

Was he expecting Maria sitting there with some other guy, doing whatever? Perhaps. Was he expecting her parents having found their way to their daughter and grandchild? Perhaps. Perhaps the teenager within his mind was afraid to witness exactly that. To be confronted with judging eyes or with a new kind of ultimatum from anyone, no matter if it was from Maria or from her parents.

What if her parents heard the _good news_? What if they heard about the baby being born, though Sef was actually a bit too early? Of course, when he had asked Maria before if she did have contact with her parents, she told him that she didn’t talk to her parents since they kicked her out (not that Altaїr would forbid it anyway), but they could've learned that Maria had been with child again from someone in the city, right? So, what if they now suddenly wanted to be part of their grandchildren's' lives? What if they would force Maria to dump him and to take the kids with her? He knew Maria was done with their current situation. She was done with having to look for every little penny. She was done with their tiny apartment. She was done with _him_. He knew that every time he looked at her.

He stopped right in front of her door and braced himself for what was lying ahead, grabbing Darim tighter and felt incredibly ridiculous at the same instant. It was not like he was going into battle, right? He did not need to put on his armor. After all, he had been with her while she delivered the baby today. He had already seen his little son. He had already held him, already smelled him, already touched him, already spoken to him. When he left, Maria had been fast asleep, exhausted after the ordeal but seemingly happy about their new baby, though Altaїr now needed to work even more so he could provide for them all. He would have even less time from now on for his oh so desired family. He felt the small box digging into his abdomen, the little box containing the ring he already got her. He did not know when to do it. Not now - that was for sure, but he carried the bloody thing around for weeks now! He was not even sure if she would say yes to him, but right now, he was full of love for his girlfriend and his kids. She still was the most beautiful woman in the entire world and he knew that he would always love her for giving him those beautiful children to care for.

"Daddy~" Darim reminded him of his mission and Altaїr nodded before he took a deep breath and opened the door. The room was empty, the bed messy and Sef's little crib not even there anymore. Well, perhaps he had been brought back to the nursery by one of the nurses. "Where is mommy?" Darim asked when Altaїr put his bag aside and sat down heavily on the chair he occupied previously. It was warm. Weird.

"She's probably using the bathroom I guess." He smiled when Darim turned to face him, now sitting on his lap. He loved those big blue eyes he got.

"And where is the baby?" Of course, he was eager to see his little brother. Darim had been probably even more excited about the new child than his parents, impatient to finally meet him.

"I guess he's sleeping with the other babies. Surely he's very tired. Being born is one exhausting activity." He then chuckled. "When mommy is back we will visit him in the nursery, I promise." Because he himself was eager to see the little guy again too.

"Okay." Darim nodded, but Altaїr could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong still clinging to him. He couldn’t hear any noise out of the little bathroom, which would tell him Maria was in there and why would she leave the room anyway? He could not help but wonder about all this. Well, that was until Darim stood up with wobbly legs, balancing with his tiny feet on his father's knees before he grabbed his father's cheeks. "I wuv you dad!" The toddler exclaimed. He still had troubles saying the word _love_ , but Altaїr liked it even better this way.

"I wuv you too, buddy."

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When Altaїr woke up this morning he noticed the SMS he had gotten during the night. Darim was still clinging to him, snuggling as close as humanly possible to his father as if he was afraid he would go away otherwise. He was glad that Darim was not able to hold a grudge against him for all too long. He had already forgiven his father for being an idiot and not picking him and his baby brother up. It seemed he would always forgive him for being an idiot. Perhaps he was so used to it by now.

It was weird for him that he had fallen asleep so fast, after what had happened during that last night. He had witness someone being killed, had stabbed the guy and Malik dealt with this stuff like it was his normal daily routine. Yet, Altaїr fell into his bed after he changed and just fell asleep immediately. Perhaps it was because he had Darim (and Darim's teddy) in his arms. Having his son was like having a big teddy. Perhaps sleeping was his brain's way of dealing with this gruesome stuff. Perhaps it had been all too much.

He found a minute of peace to read the SMS he got, while his son was brushing his teeth in Malik's bathroom together with Tazim. The two sworn enemies slowly seemed to get along. It was a tender alliance against those clowns calling themselves adults and fathers. Altaїr was glad Darim finally found a friend (though Darim still called Tazim his nemesis). He almost choked on his own spit while toweling his wet hair, when he read the SMS. _Tonight, Plaza Hotel, Midnight. Do not forget to bring that booty ;)_.

Oh, he hated this guy. What had went wrong with Kadar in his childhood? Malik turned out just fine! Well…

"This can't be real." He sighed. "This can't be happening." But it did and he brought that upon himself. He had agreed to Kadar's offer. He had sold himself. Well, at least he made a good deal, right? He would have never gotten a million dollars on the street just for one night! That hardly made it any better. But, oh well, he would do it for the little guys. It was not the end of the word, right? He would let Kadar have his fun and move on. After this, he would be free to quit the job at the _Plan B_ and to start something new with his kids. It was worth it. After all, it was no big deal. It was only sex. He was an adult. Well, at least that was what his documents said anyway.

"Something's wrong?" Malik enquired when he moved past him towards the bathroom. Altaїr was still standing in the middle of the hallway with his phone in his hand and was quick to shove it back into his jeans. He had been so lost in thoughts, he had not even heard Malik approaching. Malik was already dressed smoothly and ready to start his day, while Altaїr still looked like a tramp, though he just taken a shower. His jaw was still stubbly for he had not shaved yet and he only wore his jeans. For a short moment, he thought Malik's eyes were traveling down south on his body, but then he noticed they did not and a lazy voice in the back of his head was raging because he did not.

"No, everything's fine." He lied with a soft sigh while their kids were babbling in the background and clearly not doing what they were supposed to do. They behaved a bit like two puppy dogs jumping around each other. It was cute. Malik raised one brow at his answer before he shoved his right hand into the pocket of his pants and clearly decided to ignore his lie.

"Well … take your time to get ready then. I'll drop the little guys off. I need to discuss something with Connor anyway."

"Wow isn't that nice of you." Altaїr smirked, but he got pinched in the nose immediately by Malik. He probably deserved it. It did not take long for Tazim and Darim to run out of the bathroom again after Malik shooed them a little. Darim still needed a bit help to get dressed, so Altaїr helped him and tied his shoelaces after they went down the stairs so the little guy could get going.

"But today you'll pick me up again, right?" Darim frowned just when Altaїr closed the zipper of his new jacket. He still felt a bit guilty that Malik gave his son's old jacket to Darim, who was a tiny bit smaller than Tazim, but at least Malik did not go and buy a crap load of things for Darim.

"Yes, I will." Altaїr snickered and helped him put on his little backpack. "I and your brother will be there in time to pick you guys up, I promise."

"Pinky swear?" Darim was dead serious. Yes, he was always quite strict with his stupid father, because he already knew what a silly guy he was. Where would he even be without his son? Darim was always the one to remind him about important stuff, was always taking care of him. He knew his father was not an adult yet and Altaїr felt a bit embarrassed because of it. So he just held his pinky finger out and smiled.

"Pinky swear." He replied when Darim hooked his own pinky with his and shook it. It was a promise from man to man and not to be broken. Altaїr was adamant to keep it. So he said goodbye to his son and to Tazim, when the children burst out the door. Malik was the last to leave the house, but before he could go Altaїr stopped him only to straighten the collar of his black coat and maybe out of familiarity (or whatever) Malik almost kissed him goodbye when he did, before he realized his mistake, grumbled a short goodbye and fled through the door, followed by Altaїr's cackling laughter. It really was quite funny, this moment and it helped Altaїr a little bit to calm his nerves after all that had happened within those last forty-eight hours. Still, the death of Abu'l Nuqoud was gnawing on his mind and was not to leave him alone all too soon.

And Maria?

What was he supposed to do about her? Should he even react to the letter of Boston's youth welfare office? Should he try to contact her? Should he _plea_ to keep his children? They would be better off with her, he knew that. Maria could give them all the things they needed: motherly love, a nice warm home, stability. Altaїr could not give this to his kids. He knew this. She knew this. His kids knew this. But he was selfish. He did not want to give them up. He wanted to keep them to himself because they were _his_. _His family_.

With a sigh, he turned to take care of himself, because he needed to get his head clear again. It was about time that he got his life back under control again. He could not keep on going like the lazy sloth he was. He could no longer loaf around like a piece of trash! Tonight he would meet Kadar, he would do what the idiot so desperately wanted to do with him, he would get his money and then he would start over again. Though he still had no clue how to explain the sudden gain of money to Desmond or any other person for that matter. Well, at least he could go and tell Darim that his daddy had won the lottery.

When he was halfway up the stairs to finally get dressed appropriately the doorbell rang. "Well, that was so clear." He moaned, now a little bit shivering running around half-naked in Malik's home. So Altaїr hurried down again and towards the door. His hand closed around the doorknob just as the bell rang a second time and he opened the door without even thinking twice about it – totally forgetting, that this was not _his_ home and that he had no clue who that was standing in front of the door. He did not know who had Malik's address or if he was even allowed to open the door at all. For all, he knew it could be one of Malik's (probably) many, many enemies, right?

Yet he ripped the door open and cold air was punching him right in the face. It was his cousin standing in front of him and shoving him to the side so he could enter the house without even hesitating just a second. "Desmond!" He gasped, but his cousin closed the door right behind him and then dragged Altaїr a few steps away from the door. "What's wrong?" His cousin would never just come to his boss's house like this to search for Altaїr if he would not have a damn good reason. Of course, it was not all that surprising that his cousin knew where his boss lived, after all those years he was already working for the guy. But Desmond's face told him very clearly that something serious did happen and he had no clue if he really wanted to know.

"It's…" Desmond started with a hum, followed by a deep, deep sigh. "Don’t you want to put some clothes on?" Desmond then groaned. Oh, he made him anxious with his erratic behavior! He did not like when his cousin would behave in such a fashion!

"No, just tell me what's wrong, Desmond." He sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest before he wandered into the kitchen (simply because it was the closest to the front door and still quite warm after breakfast). "If you are still pissed because I got wasted the other night I already said I was sorry or did I?"

"No, no … It's not because of this. Well, _Jah_ I'm still pissed because you got mindlessly drunk and left your kids with me. I mean, you could've died or something, you could've gotten hurt by someone or _you_ could've hurt someone - but no, that’s not why I'm here."

"So why are you here then?" But Desmond still fidgeted a bit and for one short moment, Altaїr thought it might be the right time to tell him about Maria and the letter. He could not keep this a secret forever. He needed to tell Desmond, to tell Shaun and to tell his son. It was important that he would finally grow himself some balls. "Maria sent me a letter. Well, no. The Boston youth welfare office sent it to me. She wants custody of the boys." It came out a lot quicker than he originally expected, but at least his cousin's reaction was exactly what he thought it would be.

Desmond's eyes grew so huge that Altaїr was in fact worried they would fall out of his head and not only his face turned pale, but his ears and neck as well (lower he could not see because of his jacket). "What the…" He began, his voice tiny before he came back to his senses as it seemed. "What a bitch! Oh, this fucking bitch!" He suddenly growled and ruffled his short, short hair. "So that’s why she wanted me to give her your address!"

"Wait what?" Altaїr gasped, though his mind simply turned blank.

"That’s why I'm here! She was standing right in front of my door this morning! Just a few hours ago! She wanted me to give her your address because she wanted to see her children!"

"You didn’t give it to her, right?"

"Of course not! I told her to go fuck herself!"

Well, his cousin was usually not this type of guy. Desmond was normally a very laid back, very relaxed kind of guy and always managed to keep his head cool. The only time he saw him enraged was when he came out to his parents and got into a fight with his dad about all this. It was hard imagining Desmond yelling and screaming at really anybody, not to mention him saying someone should go fuck themselves! He never screamed at him once though he really had any reason to in all those years!

Still … Altaїr felt a little honored that his cousin got angry at his ex-girlfriend like this. But the shock weight heavier. Maria was in town. Maria was in fucking town and wanted to see her kids! She wanted to know where he was and where her kids were! She wanted to get them, to rip them right from his arms if necessary! He could feel cold sweat all over his body, shivering in the warmth of the kitchen.

"I…" He began, but could not really think of what to say or what to do! He drove his fingers through his still damp hair and scratched the back of his neck like he used to when he was still little and needed to busy his hands. "I-I-I…. I need to get out of the city." He then stammered, but they both (the entire world) knew that this was not exactly a good plan. "I need to leave as soon as possible before she finds out where Darim goes to kindergarten or something. We-We-We could go to … Yeah! We could go to Washington! Rauf is now studying in Washington, right? Or I could go visit my Uncle Yusuf in Turkey! Yes! We just go to Istanbul!"

At least - no matter how flustered Desmond was - his calm head was still in the right place (on his shoulders) and still very much working because in the next moment Desmond crossed the distance between them two and grabbed both of his shoulders. "Altaїr, calm down. You know that you can't do something like this, right? You can't just kidnap your children and flee to Turkey."

"I won't kidnap them! They are _my_ children and I can go wherever I want to go with them!"

"No, you can't." Desmond replied as firmly as possible and looked him straight in the eye. "It's considered kidnapping, you will get send to prison straight away for something like this."

"Only if they catch me!"

"Oh, they _will_ catch you! And then you will see them kids never again! Maria will tell Darim right away what a terrible person you always were and Sef … Well, she will not even need to alienate him from you! He will not even know who you are as soon as you will get out again. So just cut it out and focus."

"Focus on what, Desmond?" He growled. "Focus on _what_? Shall I focus on how fast Maria will take my children from me?"Perhaps he was overreacting a bit. He knew he was. But then again, was he? Was he really now? After all, Maria was their mother and Altaїr knew by now that every court in the world would give custody rather to the mother than to any father no matter how good they were as a father.

It was unfair. But he guessed this simply was how the world functioned. The world was no place for being fair. Only the strongest were able to survive and only the strongest would get what they want.

"No." Desmond said. "I mean... Of course, that's what she wants I guess, but you can't just give up like this. You need to fight." Altaїr snorted. He saw that Desmond was serious and of course, he was serious for they were talking about his nephews and he loved them just the way Altaїr did love them, still...

"I do fight."He growled. "Don't act like I would not fight." Oh, he was furious. He was livid! Of course, he would fight. Of course, he fought for his little ones and Desmond knew this perfectly well. But on the other hand, he knew just as well that Desmond knew this and that he did not mean it like this.

"So what are you proposing then? What should I do? Please enlighten me, oh almighty one, oh great messiah Desmond Miles." He snarled. Maybe he was behaving unfairly because he knew that his cousin was just as flustered as he and then Desmond even stepped back a bit as if he would fear his rage.

"I don't know man." He sighed and flung his hands in the air like some desperate merchant who was not able to sell his remaining goods. "I really don't know, buddy. I mean... You could try to talk with her. How about you give her a call and meet her some place neutral. Try to get her to understand what this all means to you and more importantly to your kids."

"I doubt she cares about that. She only cares about herself." He grunted. No. He would not meet this woman. He could not! He could feel his stomach ache just from considering it.

"Well, I could meet her too you know. I could go and talk to her in your place; after all she knows where I live anyway. If you would meet her she could follow you and then she would know where to find you..." Desmond was right and they both knew that. Maria would cause havoc when they would meet.

"No. This is my fight and I can't have you fighting my wars all the time." Though it would be much easier like this. Oh, he would gladly cower behind his cousin like he did back when he was still a child and those bullies in school harassed him again.

" _All the time_." He snorted. "It's not _all the time_. I have nothing to lose, unlike you dear cousin. But do you really think I want her to get them gremlins? I love those kids!"

He did. Though things had not always been like this in the past. Hell no. Desmond had not at all been happy when Altaїr told him about his kids in the first place. But then again, things had not been easy...

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The journey had not been a simple and relaxing or even an easy one. Oh no. It never was easy to travel with kids, every parent in the world would agree to that. But traveling with a boy who just turned four _and_ with a newborn was exceptional hard. Since Altaїr did not have a car and since he did not even have a driver's license, he had no other choice than traveling by train with his two boys and everything he could carry. The rest of his belongings would get shipped to his cousin's home in a few days. He was lucky that Rauf's parents (well, more like his mother) agreed to take care of that. Well, then again he could have called Desmond and he would have got him, but his cousin was not yet aware he was coming.

"Daddy..." Darim protested close at his side, his fingers curled into the fabric of his father's jeans since said father did not have a free hand to hold his son's.

"Yeah?" He asked his voice worn and thin. It was dark outside. Of course, it was. It was already past midnight while they walked through cold air and poorly lit streets and Darim probably was too tired to move on with his tiny feet.

"Where are we going?"

That indeed was a good question. It was not like he didn't have a destination in mind, only that he did not have the slightest clue if they would be able to stay there. "I told you we are going to visit my cousin." He answered maybe a bit strained.

Darim had not met Desmond all too often by now and he knew that this was mainly because Desmond did not like Maria and of course because Maria absolutely detested his gay cousin. Darim was tired and he was slow by his side and Altaїr was so annoyed by that! He was freezing and the straps of the bags he was carrying were digging in his shoulders just like the baby sling he had strapped to his body and the weight of his baby son. He just wanted to arrive at Desmond's place and get a rest, though he knew Shaun would be livid.

"But why?" Darim continued. "Is mommy there?"

"No, Darim. I don't think so." He murmured. It was a few months now that he arrived at the hospital to find that his girlfriend decided to run off without a word of explanation and up until now he did not manage to tell Darim what had happened.

"Where is mommy? Are we going to meet her soon?" He was getting angry and impatient with his father, that, Altaїr knew. And he could understand this - but he did not tolerate it.

"No, buddy, I don't think so." He groaned and when he felt how Darim let go of him he huffed in annoyance. "Darim come on now! We are almost there!" At least that was what he thought. He had never been to New York after all. All he'd got was his cousin's address.

Darim did not make a move, instead, when his annoyed father turned to him, he huffed and grunted. His blue eyes were wet; he could see that even in the dark. Of course, he was frustrated and he could not blame him, but Altaїr only growled at the way his boy was looking at him. "Darim come on now!" He repeated.

"No!" The little one huffed before he stomped down with his little foot as hard as he could. "Where is mommy?" He could see the first big tears rolling down his red cheeks and how his bottom lip was trembling heavily.

"Darim..." He then tried again but the little man stomped again.

"No!" He yelled. "Where is mommy?! I want mommy!" It was quite obvious that his kid would demand an answer no matter what, while now tears were streaming down his blotched face.

"I told you mommy needed to go on a little vacation with her parents." Altaїr replied, but he could not force himself to yell at Darim, though he indeed raised his voice again a little more.

"No! I don't believe you!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "When is she coming home?!"

"I don't know Darim! Please come now!" Because Sef, his baby boy, finally started to cry for the surrounding turmoil.

"No you are a liar! I want mommy!" The few passersby on the streets already looked in their direction, alarmed because of the yelling four-year-old.

"Mommy left us, Darim!" He finally yelled back in the middle of the streets and regret hit him right in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he should not have said this to his son after all every kid's worst nightmare was to be left behind by their parents, but should he keep lying to his son forever? It was not fair to keep him in the dark about all this and Darim was not stupid either. His mother left nearly nine months ago after all. Now Darim was suddenly very quiet and he looked at his father with those big blue eyes, while his little brother kept crying at his father's chest.

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Altaїr did what was expected of him when he followed Kadar's order and arrived at the _Plaza Hotel_. He was a bit earlier than agreed, but he could already hear music from inside the hotel room. He still wondered why Kadar wanted to meet him in this fancy hotel and not at his own place, but it was better not to question him, he guessed.

Kadar was a strange man, that was something Altaїr already discovered, but at least Kadar seemed to know exactly what he wanted and liked. For Kadar, all of this was but a game, something he could amuse himself with. Altaїr used this last moment to brace himself before he finally knocked at the door.

The _Plaza Hotel_ was quite something of course, right on the famous 5 th avenue in New York City and clearly one of the biggest hotels he had ever seen. Sure thing, Boston was a big city too, but coming from Boston to New York felt like coming right from some small Hicksville into the big city for the first time. The woman back at the front desk had looked at him funny for his worn clothes and his messy hair. His chin was a little bit stubbly again after he could not find the strength to shave again before he went off. His kids were spending the night safe and sound at Desmond's place and Malik he told that he too would stay with his cousin for tonight. He did not need to know what was really going on.

Of course, Malik had remained skeptical, but he did not ask, for Altaїr still was his guest and he was free to go wherever and whenever he pleased to do so (at least that was what they agreed on). Perhaps he even thought he craved his cousin's presence because of this whole Maria-problem. Of course, he told him what Desmond told him about Maria arriving at his doorstep and again Malik had made this face as if he only waited for Altaїr to decide what should happen with her.

It had been a little more difficult to persuade Desmond that he just wanted to get a clear head and that he needed to be alone for this. Of course, Desmond suspected that he would get wasted again, but Altaїr tried his best to reassure him, that he had learned his lesson the hard way. And while Desmond was worried that he could get wasted again, Altaїr was worried Maria could try to force her way into Desmond's flat again. Of course, he knew chances were good he could run right into her near Desmond's apartment, but he was careful. He was like a ghost for most people anyway. Maria only registered him after their little fight in ethics class back then, so why should she register him out in the open...

The door was ripped open so enthusiastically it nearly was torn from its hinges. Kadar was not wearing a suit like his brother always would, but a pair of black jeans and some stupid t-shirt of some game Altaїr never heard of. _Assassin's Creed_ or something. Well, Kadar was a strange guy who played strange games, but now he grinned at him sheepishly and seemed to be much younger than Altaїr though he was a few years older in fact. His bright blue eyes were glistening with mischievous joy. "There you are! I waited for you! I already prepared a bath!" Oh, he hated this guy with a passion, when Kadar pulled him at his left arm inside the room. He felt almost instantly like he was Kadar's new plaything which was dragged into his little funhouse - and that he was.

"A bath?" He asked right when his host closed the door behind Altaїr, even though Altaїr noticed how Kadar took a moment of their shared time together to have a look across the hallway as if he expected someone to follow Altaїr. Weird, but perhaps this amount of paranoia came with his job.

"Yes, you need a bath! I need you to be relaxed for tonight. Shall I call the front desk to send you a masseuse too? I've heard they are really good here! But I guess that is to be expected in a first class hotel like this one." He already learned that it was quite hard to stop Kadar when he first started blabbering, so he did not even try.

"I decline... I just want to get it over with." Altaїr sighed when he stepped further into the suite. The suite consisted of at least three rooms. A small hallway led to some kind of lounge or living room with a large plasma TV and a big ass stereo already running. The door to the bathroom was to his left, standing wide open with the lights still on. Where the bedroom was located he could not yet see (and perhaps it was better this way). Kadar snickered by his side but dragged him against his protest into the bathroom.

"Don't be such a baby, Altaїr. We do have the entire night; don't you want to get in the right mood first?" Kadar grinned and underlined his words with a soft wiggle of his hips.

The bathtub was already filled with steaming hot water and a mountain of bubbles and it was so large Altaїr could easily have a pool party in there with his kids. Oh, Darim would absolutely love this place. The floor was made of marble (at least it looked like this) and the knobs on the drawers were gold, just like the faucets. It was pleasantly warm in the bathroom and he guessed that this was because of a floor heating, for he could not see a traditional heater anywhere around.

For a moment he stood there clueless of what to do, but his face surely looked sullen, because right in that moment Kadar finally produced one annoyed moan and grabbed his (Desmond's) jacket to pull it off his shoulders and slowly started to undress him like he was a Barbie doll. Altaїr let him, though it clearly felt unsettling and strange, but after all, Kadar would pay a good price to see him naked, right? Kadar stepped back when he was only wearing his shorts, his pants pooling around his ankles. Then Kadar nodded, slowly getting impatient with his guest. "Go on now." He said and it took Altaїr a moment to realize that Kadar would not undress him completely and one moment more before he could bring himself to hook his fingers in the waistband of his shorts and rip them off as fast as he could to get it over with.

There he stood now, completely naked in front of this guy and only wanted to cover himself with his hands, while Kadar eyed him up like a wolf its prey. "Well, Malik was right, you really are fucking hot." He grinned. "I will never understand that he didn't take the chance to fuck you when you were passed out drunk in his car." Maybe a part of him was surprised too, that Malik hadn't done something like this, but he said: "It could've been because I puked all over him or because your brother not just thinks with his dick."

But Kadar laughed at this and Altaїr felt like some hysteric chick right away. "Yes, perhaps you're right. My brother is a real saint, I guess. But now get in the tub and take your time. No need to rush things, after all, we got plenty of time."

At least Kadar would not watch him bathe or even join him, not that it would've made a big difference now anyway, but he was glad that he got a bit alone time in here. The hot water felt heavenly pleasant and now relaxing alone in this big ass tub and listening to the noise of the hotel suite, he found the time to really think about everything again. Perhaps Desmond was right. Perhaps he should meet Maria and talk to her. Perhaps he could have a reasonable conversation with the mother of his children after all. All he needed to do was to man-up and get his shit together. And after tonight he would be a rich man. He could pay back his debts and he would be free at last.

He heard Kadar cheer from the lounge, while he scrubbed his scalp clean and after the water began to run cold, he slowly climbed out of the tub. There was nothing for him to wear other than his clothes and a simple bathrobe, so he grabbed the bloody thing after toweling dry. Before he left the bathroom, he took one last deep breath and then stepped outside to meet Kadar.

He found him sitting on the big couch in the lounge, sprawled out across the thing, staring into the big TV as if his eyes were glued to the huge screen, where some football game was on. Sadly, Altaїr never found interest in that kind of sport, so he had no clue what was going on there. It was warm inside the living room / lounge and Kadar did not even register his presence, but Altaїr noticed the big black suitcase standing near the door to the balcony. They were on the thirteenth floor and the view over the city was incredible. In fact, he wished to be higher above it all, so he could see the bright lights deep down underneath him.

There was a loud knock on the door to the room and Kadar jumped instantly. "Pizza is here!" He chirped when he rushed past Altaїr. "Get comfy!" He added over his shoulder and left Altaїr in confusion. He had no clue what to do. _Get comfy_ \- did he mean he should get naked? Kadar was an enigma to him, perhaps even more so than his older brother.

For one last moment, Altaїr hesitated, but then he dropped his robe and waited. He did not want to play around with this guy. All he wanted was to get it over with, to get the money and get out. Surely, he would somewhat _miss_ Malik, but then again he could not stay in Malik's presence with his kids especially not after the thing with Abu'l Nuqoud. Malik used him to murder the guy and though he understood why he was afraid for what Malik could ask him next time.

He felt anxious when he listened to Kadar talking at the door with someone and even more so when he heard the thud of the door being closed, followed by Kadar's footsteps.

"Well then." Kadar laughed as soon as his eyes fell on Altaїr's exposed body. "If you are comfy eating your pizza naked, then I guess that's fine with me, Adonis. I didn't know what you like so I just ordered all they had."

Altaїr turned around only to see Kadar peeking over a mountain of pizza boxes in his arms. Altaїr was baffled, to say the least and suddenly he felt very naked and embarrassed, but he stood his ground anyway when he crossed hid arms in front of his naked chest. "I'm here because you want to fuck me, not to eat pizza, so do it already." But Kadar only raised one eyebrow. "Well, I do in fact fuck better when I had pizza - at least that's what the women I fucked said. I even got one with Anchovies!"

"I hate fish." He growled, mainly because he could not think of anything else to say. This whole situation seemed so unreal! But Kadar simply walked back to the sofa and sat down.

"Good. I love fish, so more for me." He snickered. "Now let's eat and then we can still fuck. Don't worry I have a lot planned for tonight and did a great amount of research. You won't be able to walk tomorrow when I'm done with you."

Altaїr was almost positive that it should sound sexy or something like that at least, but he sounded more like a teenager who booked a hooker to lose his _V-Card_. With a sigh, he put on his robe again and then joined Kadar on the sofa. After all, he couldn't do much else anyway, right?

The pizza was incredible and eating with Kadar was actually really fun too. While they were munching pizza and while Altaїr tried every single one of the pizzas Kadar ordered (except for the one with the anchovies), they watched TV and though Altaїr still had no clue what those people on screen were actually doing, he found himself enjoying the night and even relaxing in Kadar's company. Finally, when they clinked their beer bottles together he found himself grinning. "I've never done some something like this."

"Wat?" Kadar asked muffled by his pizza.

"Sitting around, eating pizza, drinking beer with someone else." _With a friend,_ he wanted to say but stopped himself before it could escape him.

"Me too." Kadar chuckled and now it was Altaїr who raised his eyebrows.

"What? I would've suspected you to do something like this all the time!"

But Kadar made a small grimace. " _Nah_." He made. "I never had many friends, to be honest. You know the life of a mobster is quite lonely. People are afraid of you all the time as soon as they know - and rightfully so, I might add. We live by a strict code, no outsiders allowed. One day Giovanni Auditore will pick a bride for me too and then I will follow in Malik's footsteps."

"So Malik's marriage was an arranged one..." Of course, looking back to the wedding photo at Malik's place, that was quite obvious.

It was quite clear that Kadar already drank a few more beers before, not only because he could see the empty bottles under the glass table, he had parked his naked feet on, but because clearly, Kadar wouldn't have told him all this if he was sober enough. So he snorted and said: "Of course! Oh, Malik hated this woman! She was a mean bitch and she would always harass him for no reason at all. She was quite conservative, lived strictly by the Quran and for her, it was a real humiliation to marry a gay man. She detested Malik, but on the other hand, marriages within the mob are rarely out of love. Ezio is lucky. He has Sofia, but his brother needed to marry a girl he hated too. If I'm lucky I'll get Claudia Auditore, but the Auditore do not really like mingling Italian blood with Syrian. You will not believe the scandal when suddenly Connor appeared nine years ago! For the Auditore illegitimate children are a big no-no, but Edward never really gives a fuck what Giovanni wants. If it wasn't for him I don't know what they would've done to Connor."

"So Edward is his father?"

"No that's Haytham, but he acts more behind the scenes. I do not think he would have let them hurt his little puppy wolf, though he neglected him for the most time since Connor was living with him. Their relationship is kinda rocky."

"So what happened to Malik's wife? I mean I know she died in an accident..."

"Accident!" Kadar laughed. "Well, first I thought it was Malik who placed the bomb under her car, but with that, he would've endangered his son too and started a war, so no... But some of our enemies blew up her car. They seem to have a liking for stuff like that, blew up my car too a while ago! But wow that was a sight. I've never seen Malik so relieved. Yet he kept her drawing room and even moved it when they moved houses after the incident with the dead nanny. I guess it's because of Tazim. Oh, he loves the little monster."

"He is a good father." Altaїr replied and sipped his beer, though he did not even know how much he already drank. It was not like he would enjoy the taste, oh no quite the contrary, but he slowly was getting used to it and he decided it would be better being drunk tonight.

"Yes, he is. Better than our father at least!"

"So why didn't he search for another wife or at least a lover? He seems a bit lonely."

"Well, he is! But I think he is afraid to get someone killed again and the most people who learn about our _business_ are not willing to get themselves in such danger. But I think he has a habit of falling in love with the wrong people." He snickered, but Altaїr, feeling the alcohol working in his system, did not understand what Kadar really meant - and he did not care either.

"So how about you suck my cock?" Kadar suddenly switched the topic and Altaїr felt the heat rushing back into his cheeks and bile rising in his throat, yet he nodded and after a moment of hesitation, he slipped from the sofa and down to the ground and crawled between his legs without even trying to look sexy. That was, after all, what he was here for. It was a job and as long as he kept telling this to himself, it would be alright. When he opened Kadar's jeans, the guy grabbed his chin. "No hands. Use your mouth." His voice was husky and deep and nothing like before - and suddenly Altaїr felt the little hairs on his body stand up in excitement.

Still, Altaїr hesitated after he opened the button but then grabbed his zipper with his teeth to pull it down. What a weird feeling going down on a guy like this. "Would it help if I would switch on some porn? They have a great variety here from straight to gay and everything you can imagine."

Altaїr did not answer; he rather concentrated on the task ahead. To his questionable luck, Kadar was not wearing anything underneath his black jeans. Well, he really was a weird guy, but the alcohol made it easier for Altaїr to focus and do what was asked of him. "I need my hands to-" He began as Kadar's fingers already clawed at his hair. "Do it then." He groaned as if the sight alone was already enough for him. Sadly it was not, so Altaїr let his fingers brush over the path of black hair, following it down from Kadar's belly bottom down into his pants and felt the heat of Kadar's already hard arousal pressing against the tips of his fingers.

His heart was beating so hard he was sure it was about to explode out of his chest when he carefully grabbed him only to hear him moan in excitement. "I've heard you dancers are quite flexible, right? Can't wait to test-"

The door to the hotel room was ripped open with a violent bang when a loud and clearly furious voice bellowed through the entire and oh so noble building. "KADAR!"


	14. beautiful girl

Sometimes things just would not go as planned. _That_ was a fact, so Altaїr was not all that much surprised, when Malik Al-fucking-Sayf dragged him out of the _Plaza Hotel_ and right towards his big black car (which was still not his beloved BMW, because this exact car still was not ready for him to drive after Altaїr puked all over the place) and through the freezing cold air of this late October night. He did not grant Altaїr enough time to even get dressed, so Altaїr clutched at his robe, his face hot and burning red from the latest humiliation of being dragged like a fornicator onto the street half naked. He was wearing no shoes – no nothing to be precise – underneath his robe and was still a little bit tipsy after his two or three beers, while he was clutching his clothes to his chest. He felt as if Malik caught him cheating with another man when the Arab nearly pushed him into his car so that Altaїr landed quite inelegantly on the passenger's seat like a misbehaving child. This was getting ridiculous. But yet a part of him felt guilty for no explicable reason at all.

He had not seen people talking in hushed voices over them and their behavior yet, but he was very well aware that they, in fact, were doing exactly that. At least the receptionist was, just like the people in the lobby of the _Plaza_ they passed while they _left_.

"This is unbelievable!" Malik huffed after he circled the car and fell down heavily on the driver's seat. He closed his door a little too violently, that was for sure. "Unbelievable! What did you even think you were doing up there?!"

"That's none of your – _hicks_ – fucking business!" Altaїr growled (though the danger that should lie in his deep rumbling voice was certainly lessened by his now very apparent condition and the small hiccup that came with the intoxication), but Malik did not start his car or really did anything at all like this for that matter.

"Oh yes, it is! I just beat up my own little brother because of your ridiculous behavior! So what the hell happened up there?!" He was livid. He was foaming with rage. Malik clenched his long, sun-kissed fingers so hard around the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white as bones. A part of him thought Kadar deserved no better than this, but he knew this simply was not true at all (or at least it was not the whole truth about this situation). It was him who agreed to Kadar's offer, after all. He could have declined it. "We just ate pizza and drank some beers and watched the game!"

"What _game_?"

"Well, the _game_! Football!"

"It looked more like you was about to suck his dick like some ridiculous, nasty pornstar!" Was this jealousy sparking in Malik's dark-dark eyes? But no, why would he be jealous (and in what world would Malik Al-Sayf feel the need to be jealous anyway)? It was probably the alcohol letting him see things that weren't really there and Malik – for that matter – was probably just angry at him (or his brother), even though Altaїr could not think of any good and logical reason why he should be this angry at him (or his brother). After all, it was Altaїr's decision whose cock he wanted to suck, right? Perhaps he was just angry Altaїr would not suck _his_ dick.

"So what?" He growled like a moody teenager rebelling against its parents and for just this one moment, he felt like he was talking to Bill Miles again. He had always done all the things that made Bill angry, simply to make him angry. He would still wear his piercings if Bill was around, simply because the guy hated them and not because Altaїr liked them so much. "Maybe I wanted to suck his dick!" He hiccupped and for a split second, he was sure Malik would punch him. Yet he did not.

"He wanted to pay you, right?" He asked instead. "Don't even try to cover it up for him, I know my brother for twenty-five years now and that is more than enough time to learn about the things going on in his little mind. He always pays people for stuff! He pays them to hang around in hotels or at his place, he pays them to party with him through the night, he pays them to play all of his stupid video games with him, he pays them to eat pizza with him or to get wasted or to watch a football game – so why wouldn't he pay _you_ to have sex?"

He didn't even know what to say about all this, after all, it was the truth, wasn't it? But suddenly he felt sorry for Kadar and he did not even know exactly why that was. Of course, he told him already it was a lonely life he was living, just like Malik's, but this?

"I didn't know..." He gulped. Oh, this fucking alcohol! No wonder Desmond never mixed him any drinks! He simply could not take it! "What was I supposed to do?! Maria is here in New York to steal my kids! I have a crap-load of debts! I work for a mobster! I need this money! One million is not too less for one night!"

"Yes, it is!" Malik hissed before suddenly he let go of his poor steering wheel and grabbed his chin with such a force Altaїr was positive he wanted to unhinge his jaw, because of the way Malik's fingers were digging into his unshaved, stubbly skin. Again, Altaїr wondered if Malik wanted perhaps to kiss him – no he was quite sure he would. "You are the father of two children, don't gamble with your body and with your life like this. Kadar might look like a pug, but he is a hyena. You don't know how to play this game and you don't want to play those games with him."

"And why is it that you care so much about my health or even my kids? What does this concern you?!"

Malik groaned, but he held his iron grip around Altaїr's jaw like a screw-clamp. If it would not be for the alcohol Altaїr surely would have seen something like desire burning deep in Malik's dark brown eyes - at least that was what his currently very dumb brain said.

"Because-" He began, but stopped. "Oh fuck it!" He then growled and let go of Altaїr only to throw his head back against the heads rest in defeat. "Are you so very desperate to get away from me?" Altaїr did not know what to make of this question, but Malik went on quickly enough for him to not being able to really answer or think about it too much as if he said something he rather wanted to keep to himself. "What I meant was: Are you so desperate to get away from this life? From this job?"

"Yeah, I am! I wanted to be a dancer my whole life! But I never wanted to get naked in front of hundreds of creepy ass gay guys or to get molested by some creep in a shady alley! I wanted the big stages! I wanted a career, not that!" He exclaimed in one breath, almost yelling. "I didn’t want to have-" _Children so early_ , he thought. _Did not want to have such a big responsibility for someone else's life._

But Malik had grown very quiet and finally started the car. He did not even ask about what Altaїr was going to say, perhaps because he knew what it was. "Okay then." He finally sighed. "I'll double my brother's offer then."

"What do you mean?" Altaїr snorted.

"I'll pay you two million dollars."

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It almost felt like some kind of sick déjà-vu, when Altaїr arrived at this fancy French café in downtown New York. The waiter that greeted Altaїr at the door was so snobbish he reminded him of the guy back in Boston, who always stared at Maria across the whole café when they met there (and a little bit of Shaun too). And again, he felt like a tramp walking into this elegant establishment, though he was wearing Desmond's most expensive clothes, and his cousin even made sure that the labels of his Armani jacket and his Gucci jeans were readable. His cousin had been adamant to make him look his best, just like baby Sef, who seemed quite irritated by his father's suddenly good looks – he even shaved and styled his hair to look _handsome as fuck_ – how Desmond called it.

The café was one expensive place, but Desmond and Shaun (yes even this snarky Brit) made sure his wallet was filled to the brim. The waiter on the other hand just raised one eyebrow at the sight of both the _handsome as fuck_ daddy and his baby son, clutching to his father's chest like a little monkey in his baby sling. "I'm afraid we do not possess anything like a high chair, monsieur." He said, but to his surprise (and to Altaїr's surprise as well) Altaїr stood his ground.

"That won't be necessary, sir." Altaїr answered his voice as clear as he could muster without a hint of his usual mumbling. He did not want to bring Sef and rather left him in Desmond's care, but his cousin insisted on taking him to this place as some kind of peace offering towards that woman he was going to meet. They would not stay here for too long anyway. So, finally, the waiter guided Altaїr to his table at one of the large elegant windows with those fancy white frames Maria always loved. Maria was not yet here, so he sat down with a heavy heart and his son wiggling in his baby sling, his back towards the entry so he would not even get tempted to watch out for Maria. "Yes, buddy." He sighed with a soft voice and started to free the little goblin. "I'll get you out. There we go, you are a free man now. What are you going to do with your life, now?"

Sef was already more relaxed when the baby-sling was banished to the side and out of his field of vision and when he could sit in his daddy's lap like a big boy. Desmond arranged this meeting with Maria in this exact place and he was not so sure if he should be grateful for this opportunity. He just wanted to run off. He felt anxious and sick as if he was about to vomit all over the expensive white marble table. His skin crawled by the thought of meeting Maria alone. What if she would bring her newly acquired husband as backup? He was not prepared to face Robert - He was not prepared to face Maria either.

"Wow. It's like it has been ages." The little bell over the door of the café rang and a soft voice sounded somewhere in the space behind him. Altaїr did not turn around to face her, only shoved the pacifier back into little Sef's greedy mouth as he lost it. "Almost ten months." He replied as calmly as he could though his throat felt dry and tense. Yet another déjà-vu. Suddenly he thought back to the day five years ago when seventeen Altaїr sat in another fancy café, stammering and sweating in front of his new girlfriend. "Hope you enjoyed your honeymoon. Heard you went to France, right? I believe you always wanted to go there. Always told me about how you imagined our honeymoon in Paris." He could not force the bitterness out of his voice and a part of him did not want to either. No, she should know how he felt, a part of him said, but his pride forbade him to show her his broken heart. Rather he wanted to show her anger.

Maria's fingers gently brushed over his right shoulder like a ghost while he simply looked out of the window and watched the traffic outside on the crossroads. He noticed the black BMW at the corner of one street and his little heart stopped clenching just a bit. He could not see if someone sat inside the vehicle, nor could he know if it was, in fact, Malik's car because of the distance, yet a part of him felt relieved about the sheer possibility of his presence. He felt ridiculous.

"You look different." Maria sighed like a long lost lover when she finally rounded the table and could see his face, while Altaїr gave his very best to look as passive as possible. "You look _changed_." She sat down on the other side of the table without producing any noise, just as gracile as he remembered and only then he turned to look at her.

Maria Thorpe – Maria _de Sable_ – was still magnificently beautiful with her dark curls, framing her delicate, pale face and her blue eyes were still sharp as a blade. The same blue eyes his son Darim possessed. Only Darim's look was different from his mother's. Darim never looked judgingly at him - Sef did. Her cheeks were a bit rosy, but he could not tell if it was because of the lingering cold outside or due to her choice of make-up and blush. She crossed her long, thin fingers (the fingers she used to play the piano at her parents' home with) underneath her chin when her gaze fell upon the baby like it was not hers at all, but a friend's she saw for the first time.

She did not react to the things he said about their hypothetical honeymoon, instead she said: "I never thought you would be the type of guy to move to New York City. Didn't you always use to say you did not like _the Big Apple_ and that Boston was more than enough? I can still hear you talking about this little house in the woods you always wanted to build one day. You can't even imagine how big my surprise was when I came back to Boston and your uncle Bill told me that you left." Her face was just as cheerful as her voice in the most desperate attempt at making small talk ever. Nothing would tell an outsider that this woman left her stupid boyfriend without a word with their two kids nearly ten months ago. For the world, they were just old friends, sitting here. Well, maybe not even that.

"You can't even imagine _my_ surprise when I understood that you dumped me." Altaїr replied, but he was proud of himself. His voice was not thin and not shaky at all. He didn't feel anxious anymore – he only felt angry. "Or how surprised Darim was when he understood that his mommy would not come home again to tuck him in or give him a good night kiss."

She didn't flinch because of the sharpness of his voice, but her smile started to break finally, to slowly, slowly fade away – yet she kept her poker face as best she could when she asked: "What did you tell him?"

"Well" Altaїr began slowly, carefully weighing his words. "First I told him you needed a little vacation with your parents because you needed to relax after the baby was born. Then, after a few months passed and he wouldn’t believe me any longer, I told him the truth."

"Which is what?"

"That you left us and that I don't know why." He would not tell her about all those nights Darim fell asleep crying in his arms or how often he himself cried himself to sleep because he didn’t know what to do anymore. He would not tell her about how much Darim had hated his little brother because he gave him the fault of all this after all his mother had left after the baby was born. A child his age could not understand such things. Hell, not even he as an _adult_ could.

"I didn't leave you. I just-"

"You left." Altaїr replied angrily. "You left when I – when we needed you the most. You left and I needed to take care of things. I didn't move to New York because I wanted to, but because my family would not support me any longer and because I couldn't find a decent job with two kids. It was my only chance."

"So you could've at least left me a message."

"Yes, just like _you_ did, right? I even called the cops and declared you a missing person, because I was so worried something could've happened to you! That was until your parents intervened and told me you ran off to France with this fucker!" He did his best not to hit the tabletop with his fist, though his hands were shaking.

Sef made a little-dissatisfied noise and Altaїr used this moment as an opportunity to soothe his nerves, so he cradled him softly. Now, finally, Maria reached for him, simply ignoring what he just told her. "Give him to me, he is hungry." She ordered, but her face was not at all like the one of a mother who desperately wanted to hold her baby.

"He is not hungry." Altaїr growled with a small roll of his eyes. "He is upset with me."

"And how would you know the difference?" She leaned back and crossed her arms. Oh, he always hated when she did that!

"Because I raise him! Because I feed him and change his diapers! Because I get up every night to soothe him!"

"It was about time after you let me do all the hard work the first time with Darim!" She hissed, her voice a bit higher in anger. "Where is Darim now anyway? Why isn't he here too?"

"I was working, Maria! Just in case, you didn’t notice: I was working my ass off so you could study and bang your ex! I buried my dreams so you could follow yours!"

Sef's little fingers curled in his father's sleeves as if he felt his distress and wanted to calm him. That was probably the truth. His baby boy was quite sensitive after all. He always seemed to know exactly when his stupid father was upset.

"Darim is in kindergarten. You should know this." She scrunched up her nose, before she cleared her throat a bit, clearly affronted by his comment.

"You really changed." She stated then, but this time it sounded a lot more displeased than pleasantly surprised about his apparent change.

"Really, you think so? Well, I'm no obedient dog anymore, I guess. Sorry for that." He snorted and, fuck, it felt good. It really did.

"Altaїr!" She finally sighed, though it sounded a bit annoyed when she laid her hands flat on the table before the waiter came to them to get their orders. For a moment, he thought she wanted to grab his hands and he was glad she didn’t because he simply didn’t know how he would react to that. It was not like he feared he could fall for her again only by a touch of her hands - oh no.

Before the waiter could even open the mouth to ask, Altaїr said: "She wants a cappuccino, with extra cream and chocolate chips on top." Of course, he noticed Maria's surprised expression out of the corner of his eyes, but he ignored it, just like he ignored the small smile tugging on her lips. Was she reading too much into the fact that he remembered the way she used to drink her cappuccino? The waiter paused for a moment and looked at him, but after he seemed to understand that Altaїr was done, he left - and he did not seem pleased at all with his behavior. "So what do you want, Maria?"

"I'm here because I want to talk to you like responsible adults."

"Well, sorry then, I'm still not one yet. I'm afraid you can go and fuck yourself then. You will not get my children."

"They are mine too" She exclaimed, but Altaїr only snorted. He knew she always hated when he did that. "Look, I'm sorry! I was not ready! I was overwhelmed! I never planned on having a family so early! I didn't know what to do and then I met Robert again and-"

"Spare me." He sighed. "You have what you always wanted and we both know that. You are free from your parents and the life they wanted to force on you - though you still married the guy _they_ wanted you to marry - and you don’t look poor too. Just because you suddenly remembered your kids, does not mean you have any right to take them with you."

"I never forgot them, Altaїr! Don’t be so unfair! I just- I needed a break. I was not ready to be a mom. It was all too much!"

"And what about me? Has the thought ever crossed your mind, that it could've been too much for me too? No, I tell you what was too much: being poor was too much for you to bear. Plus you finally noticed that you never loved me." He not even lowered his voice when he noticed the waiter was coming back to bring the cappuccino. "For you, I was only an instrument you could use to annoy your parents. I'm sure now you get everything that you want from them because they are so glad you finally came to your senses and did what they always wanted you to do, right?" The waiter looked at him with one raised eyebrow, but he just placed the cappuccino in front of Maria and left again.

She blushed and Altaїr felt the sour taste of victory burning in his mouth like bile. It was not a good feeling, it was no glorious moment. It simply stung. It hurt. "I really wanted to do this as civilized as possible, Altaїr." She said calmly, though her voice was trembling. "Robert is a lawyer, one of the best, you know? If you really want to do this the hard way, then okay."

He leaned back in his chair again but brushed his fingers through Sef's curls. She knew he didn’t want to do this - not for his sake, but for the kids' sake. "I won't go down without a fight." He stated, but then rose from his spot. "But you can hold him now since you never did."

The least he expected was a smile, but Maria brushed her hands over her blouse and then held her arms out as if she expected a present. Sef looked at her puzzled, but as soon as his father gave him to her, he dropped his pacifier again and started screaming as if someone pushed a button. It was a little bit like watching a movie, Sef started screaming and crying as soon as he realized that this strange woman was holding him, Maria made a surprised grimace, but pulled him tighter and the waiter looked at them as if he wanted to kick them out this instant, while the other guests seemed immediately annoyed by the crying child and started whispering.

"Oh come on little guy." She tried to calm him while she - not so very gently - cradled him, but baby Sef squirmed in her arms like he was currently possessed by a demon. Like this, he only behaved when he was at the doctor's. "Why won't he stop?" She bellowed and looked at Altaїr as if he was personally responsible for Sef's behavior. And Altaїr, oh, he could not help but smirk, when Sef grabbed for him with his chubby hands, big tears streaming down his face.

"Seems he doesn’t like you." He grinned and grabbed Sef's hand. Like this, he at least stopped screaming, but not crying. He felt sorry for the little man, but the same instant he was joyous. Sef was searching for his presence. _His_ not hers. "Or perhaps he knows what a mean bitch his mother is." He didn’t want to say that actually. He knew it was stupid, but now he said it and couldn’t take it back. Maria's face was red with anger and embarrassment.

"So what? Maybe I am a mean bitch! But at least having a mean bitch as a mother is better than having a faggot as a father who sells himself to other guys to get fucked in the ass like an animal!" Just like the words before escaped Altaїr, those words escaped Maria too now. Her trump was gone. If she wanted to keep this weapon - if it really was one - for the custody war it was now lost. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but then she yelped and jumped up to almost throw Sef at him as if she got electrocuted by her chair.

The very next moment Altaїr burst into laughter, while he grabbed Sef close. On Maria's pretty blue silk dress was a big-big-big wet stain and Sef suddenly seemed a lot more relaxed (not so say relieved) and a little bit proud too. "Maybe I am a faggot, but your son pisses on his deadbeat mother as it seems!" He chuckled and slumped down on his chair again. He had no clue how Sef even managed to do this though he was wearing diapers, but he really was proud of his little gremlin. Maria, on the other hand, was furious and foaming with rage. "You will regret this, Altaїr! No judge will ever give the kids to a fucking terrorist like you! I tell everyone you stole them from me and that you are planning on taking them back to Turkey!"

"I'm from Syria. At least keep the facts straight." He snickered. Oh, how he had loved her temper since they’ve met. He had loved her hot head, he had loved to argue with his wonderful girl that she had been and he now still liked it - only in a different fashion. Now he liked to win this argument - not for himself of course, but for his kids. Maria huffed like a dragon, which tried to get steam out of its nostrils, but then she flashed him one last warning look.

"This was not wise, Altaїr. I hope you know that." With this, she turned and ignored her cappuccino. Altaїr even craned his neck to look after her, only so that he could see how she walked out foaming with rage as the waiter helped her to get in her nice navy-blue coat.

"Good job." Altaїr cackled and pressed a chaste kiss to Sef's head and the little guy squealed with joy as his father grabbed the cup Maria left behind. He almost thought the little guy could've done this on purpose. He could feel the dampness of Sef's little trousers and when he felt for his bum, he almost broke into a fit of laughter again. "Well, it seems like someone forgot to put on diapers."

Rebecca could hardly even concentrate while she was cutting Darim's tuft, not because Darim wouldn’t behave, but because she herself simply could not control her laughter, which nearly shook her entire body violently. "He really pissed on her?" The black haired woman giggled.

"He did." Altaїr replied. He was only a tiny bit worried for Darim's left ear at the moment because of the way she was holding her scissors. He wanted to laugh, but for now, he was not so sure what Darim made of all this. He really didn’t want to tell his son about his mother and her claim just yet, but after Altaїr already met her this morning in that damned café, he knew he couldn’t keep this to himself forever, so he took Darim to the side two hours ago when they arrived at _home_ (which was Desmond's flat right now) and told him what had happened. Now Darim's face was calm, not like two hours ago. Calm, but serious, because he still pondered on what his father told him before - Too serious for a four-year-old child, for his liking.

"Good job, little man!" Rebecca laughed, while Sef, the hero of the day, was crawling over the carpet in Desmond's living room.

"But he could do this only because his father forgot to put on diapers this morning." Desmond grunted.

"So what? He would've done it anyway, only that she wouldn’t have noticed and now she at least knows what's up." Shaun grinned. It really did not happen often that Shaun Hastings would side with Altaїr, his arch-nemesis, but when he did it was always a bit strange. Of course, it was his fault that Sef hadn't had diapers on before, but after all what had happened and after he agreed to the meeting with Maria, Altaїr had been so confused he simply forgot.

Now they were all in the living room of the loft together and while Rebecca was making sure that Darim would look good the next day in kindergarten, with his hair freshly cut and the sides of his head shaven like his daddy's, the other so-called adults were uselessly loafing around. Altaїr was sitting with Sef on the carpet while his cousin and Shaun were occupying the sofa.

"So what now?" Desmond finally inquired. "What are you going to do now?"

Altaїr shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his baby son so he could cuddle a bit with him, whether he liked it or not. Sef was displeased to say the least, that his father treated him like a teddy. "I don’t know. I guess I have to wait and see what her next move will be, right?"

"Well" Desmond started again with a face that clearly spoke of discomfort. "I could call my dad, you know? After all, he is one of the best lawyers in Boston…"

That he was indeed and they all knew that pretty well. Bill was like a bloodhound, especially when he went to court. "No, it's okay." Altaїr hurried to say. "I'll find a lawyer myself, don’t worry." He could ask Malik of course, but since the incident with Kadar two days ago, they hadn't really spoken with one another. He was still a bit in shock that he almost sucked Kadar's fucking dick, that he almost slept with the guy - but even more, he was in shock about Malik's offering afterward.

Two million dollars was quite a sum. Two million for one night, for him, lying around and letting Malik let have his fun. It was absurd. Absurd and yet it was an option. He noticed the look Desmond flashed him and looked away hastily. Perhaps his pride was standing in his way. He knew what it meant to Desmond when he was considering contacting his father after all that happened between them.

"Do you need to work tonight?" Desmond finally asked and Altaїr yawned.

"Yes, but first I visit the apartment again. This Ezio-guy called to tell me it's ready."

"Wow, that’s quick!" Shaun stated with a subtle hint of surprise in his voice. "Shall I drop you guys off?" Just as rarely as Shaun would side with him, he would offer to drive them around, still, Altaїr shook his head.

"Our flat is the first to be finished, I guess Malik arranged that for us. He'll pick us up too." Rebecca flashed him a wide grin, all teeth, over Darim's head. The little guy looked more and more like him, that was for sure.

" _Sooo_ " Rebecca began. " _Malik_ , huh? What's he like? Does he look good?"

"It's not like that, Becks." Desmond moaned, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, yes, sure it's not! I mean every boss would take care of his employees like this! I'm sure he picks you up all the time, right Dessy?"

"What do you mean?" Darim chirped, but his brows were furrowed and his face clearly confused. "Yes, what _do_ you mean?" Altaїr repeated, but the dark haired woman only laughed.

"I mean that the guy wants to get into your pants, little Alteesy!"

"Rebecca!" Shaun growled.

"What does he want with Daddy's pants? They're always dirty anyway!" He was glad his son was only four years old and naïve, but while Altaїr felt the heat rising in his cheeks, Desmond came to his rescue again.

"He wants to wash them, Darim. Because when someone likes someone else they like to take care of stuff like this."

"Yes and that's why I do the laundry." Shaun grunted, but his face clearly told of his amusement, the way the corners of his mouth twitched while he spoke. Desmond only grinned sheepishly. "Well, you do the laundry and I cook." He chirped and Shaun made a grimace. "You order pizza and put stuff in the microwave. That, honey, is not cooking - that’s the reason why you need to work out so much, so you won't get too fat."

"But Dessy's microwaved lasagna is the best! No one microwaves like him!" Rebecca laughed before she gently brushed the rest of the cut off little hairs off Darim's shoulders and into the towel. "There we go, little prince. Now you will get all the ladies."

But Darim only made a face and grumbled something along the lines of " _Yuck! I hate girls! Girls are gross!"_ – And with that, he stomped towards his father and crawled next to him. Sure, Altaїr expected his son to search for his presence more than ever now after he learned about his mother being in town. Gently he brushed his fingers through Darim's freshly cut hair. "Looks good." He grinned and though Darim tried to hide it, he noticed his excitement about this comment.

"He looks like a mini-you!" Desmond cackled. "He looks exactly like you when you were four!"

Darim blushed, but he seemed to be a bit proud too when he shyly asked: "Really?" But he would not get an answer for this right then and there because right in that moment the doorbell rang and even lil' Sef let go of the string of his father's hoodie he munched on before. Altaїr threw a small glance at his watch instantly. It was a bit too early and part of him was immediately worried that it could be Maria. After all, she knew where Desmond was living. It was as if Shaun and the others all had the same fear in mind when Desmond and the Brit jumped from the couch. A moment of silence followed before Shaun straightened his spine to go for the door. The way he moved towards the entrance made it very clear that he would have none of Maria's bullshit if it was, in fact, her standing outside the apartment.

Nobody even tried to stop Shaun, when he went to the door, but all of them, even Becks, listened carefully and without producing any sound. They heard how Shaun opened the door, but no woman's voice, instead Shaun calling:

"Altaїr, I think your taxi arrived!"

Confused Altaїr rose from his spot and picked up Sef. Perhaps Malik did have something for him to do and that was why he was this early. But following Shaun into the flat was not Malik, but a very deranged Kadar. The guy was wearing way too big glasses to hide his black eye, though he could not hide the rest of his injuries with that. Kadar grinned at him with split lips (well, at least he guessed by the angle he tilted his head).

"Good evening!" He chirped his usual cheerful self. "My brother asked me to pick you up because he needed to take care of something else. He picks you guys up as soon as you arrrrrrr finished at your flat." Of course, Altaїr had no clue if this was the truth, but if it was things couldn’t be all too bad between the Al-Sayf-Brothers he guessed. Perhaps Kadar simply needed a punch to the face from time to time, yet Altaїr felt a bit uncomfortable thinking of how he knelt between Kadar's legs last night.

"Well then" He sighed nonetheless. "Thanks for the haircut, Becks."

It took them only a few moments to leave the apartment to get in the car and drive off. Kadar's _baby_ , how he called his car, was a fire red mustang and looked as if it was brand new, even the full leather seats still smelled new. "Oh shoot!" Altaїr sighed as he glanced down himself. "I took Desmond's jacket!"

Kadar flashed him a small look (well, he turned his head a bit towards him anyways). "So what? You'll swap when you meet at the bar, right?"

"Yeah…" He sighed and was silent for a moment before he tried again. "So about what happened the other day…" He intentionally kept his voice down, because he knew Darim was curious though the boy did have other things to ponder about right now.

"Shrug it." Kadar sighed. "I shouldn’t have done this. It was fun, though. I didn’t have so much fun in a long time, to be honest." Of course, he remembered what Malik told him about his brother and what Kadar himself told him that night. Perhaps he even felt a bit sorry for the boy - after all, he knew what it meant to be lonely and to have no real friends.

"Shrug it." Altaїr smirked. "Let's say we were both dumb. And if you want to eat pizza and drink beer again, just give me a call. I could use something like this once in a while too, you know?"

Though it was already dark outside the construction workers were still active and the very much annoyed faces of the few neighbors they passed told Altaїr, that this was probably going on day and night. Darim's eyes were huge, while they slowly walked through the building and past all the new arrangements. Kadar hadn't followed them inside and Altaїr guessed, that this was simply because he didn’t want to take the risk of meeting his brother again near Altaїr.

And Rebecca's words haunted him still when he climbed up the stairs with Darim. "What did Becky mean?" Darim moaned, holding on closely to his daddy's hand, looking up at him with those beautiful big blue eyes of his. It was quite obvious he wouldn’t let go of his hand again so easily. "What do you mean?" Altaїr tried to play dumb, but Darim pulled annoyed at his hand.

"You know what!" He grunted. "What did she mean Malik likes you?"

"Well…" He began, unsure of what to tell his son. "She meant Malik would like to be my friend."

"But he _is_ your friend, isn’t he? Do you mean like your boyfriend? Like Shaun and Uncle Dessy?"

"Maybe…" He chuckled. "But I don’t really think so. I think he just needs a friend from time to time. Everyone does."

"Yes, I know that, Daddy!" He snorted, clearly a bit impatient. "But would you like him to be your boyfriend?"

"I never thought about this, buddy." He sighed. There was no use explaining to Darim that he didn’t know if he was gay or if he wanted a relationship at all right now with really anybody. He never thought about being with another man, to begin with! "Other than this I wouldn’t even have time for something like that and … you know … after your mommy left…"

"But daddy…" Darim sighed as if he was talking to the village idiot – so nothing new there. "Don’t you think it's time to move on? Mommy moved on too!"

"Where did you even get that from, buddy?" He laughed.

"Doctor Phil!" Darim grinned, but before they could discuss this matter any further, they reached the first floor and were almost immediately interrupted by a woman's voice.

"You must be the infamato Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad. Did I pronounce that right?" Her Italian heritage was evident by her voice alone, but it was also very much evident from her voice alone, that she grew up speaking English. When Altaїr saw her, he was shortly stunned by her beauty and by the graceful and proud way she was moving with. She had wonderful red hair (and it was clearly her natural color), framing her face in gentle and soft waves. Over her green woolen dress she wore a thick gray coat, but decided to let it open - perhaps so she could show her growing belly proudly a little bit better. It was hard to really tell for Altaїr how far she was in her pregnancy, but her eyes had this shine to them every pregnant woman possessed and her cheeks glowed pink in excitement. Maria never really looked like this, when he looked back now - But then again the woman, though clearly a young woman, was at least a good ten years older than Maria and probably made a very conscious decision in getting pregnant. Her smile was so bright and warm it almost lit the entire hallway with its shine, while she waddled towards him on her pumps.

"Yes!" He gasped and hastily moved towards her with his son by his side and the other on his chest.

" _Oh, bene!_ My husband can't be here tonight, I'm afraid, but he left this task to me. I am Sofia Auditore, very pleased to meet you, signore Ibn-La'Ahad." She introduced herself smiling before Altaїr reached her and could shake her hand (they were soft as velvet). "Oh, and who are those lovely bambinos?"

Darim was suddenly very quiet and shy. "That’s Darim, my oldest." Altaїr chuckled and patted his head, but Darim stayed close to his side and mumbled a shy little "Hello…", before Altaїr moved on. "And sleeping beauty here is Sef."

Sofia was clearly delighted. "Lovely!" She smiled but gestured towards the end of the hallway. "I hope you and your kids will like your new home."

Altaїr didn’t really know what he expected, but clearly not what he saw, when he entered the flat once again. Darim gasped a little and Altaїr couldn’t help but let his jaw drop. The flat was now completely furnished, but not at all like his previous one. No soiled couch, no broken down kitchen, no mattress lying on the floor in the middle of the living room.

"My husband told me you didn’t have any furniture, so he decided to take care of this. It's nothing too special, but it should suffice for the start."

Of course, it was nothing too special, but like Sofia said, it was enough and more than they had before. The design of the furniture was simplistic but warm and modern. He loved it, but Darim clearly was confused. "So… where is our new flat, daddy?"

Altaїr's mouth felt very dry. "This one, buddy." He murmured. Darim's face lit up immediately, but for Altaїr it was not at all sunshine and rainbows right now. How much did all this cost? How big was this mountain of debts now? Of course, it was no expensive things standing around his new flat, but clearly no IKEA too. Would he ever be able to pay back all of this?, He asked himself while he had a look of his new living room and at the new big dark gray couch. Would two million even be enough? And how much would be left for his custody battle?

The new white kitchen was completely stainless, the aluminum knobs and handles polished like silver and the chairs around the wooden table looked comfortable. The highchair for his baby son already screamed for him to use it.

Sofia's smile grew even wider when she took Darim's hand to guide the little gremlin through the flat. "I was so free to unpack a few of the kids' things already, _scusa_! But I couldn’t help it!"

"It's alright." He answered and yet he could not yet bring himself to really smile, though Sofia seemed to be a nice person. He followed her into the kids' room and for one single, fleeting moment it was how he always imagined it to be. He spotted one of the few boxes he packed two months ago, with his own very messy handwriting on the card-box spelling the word _nursery,_ which was already open. One of Darim's old little white t-shirts was hanging over the edge of the box, but before he could have a closer look at the thing Sofia pointed towards the new closet, where one of his own shirts was hanging on the doorknob.

"I couldn’t help but hang this shirt there. It's hilarious." Sofia chuckled and Altaїr grinned because he instantly recognized that thing. "Where did you even get this shirt?"

"My cousin Desmond made it for me." He laughed. Yes, he still remembered the day very vividly when Desmond gave this shirt to him. _I make awesome babies_ was written on the dark red fabric in big beige letters. Maria had hated this thing the moment she laid eyes on it. Altaїr stepped closer to Sofia before he pulled out his phone with a small smirk and scrolled through his photos only to show what he searched for to Sofia.

It was one of the last photos Maria took of him and perhaps she did so only because of Darim, but he remembered her laughter, this full and rich sound when she took the picture. And now Sofia almost burst into laughter when she had a look at the picture herself. "Oh no!" She chuckled. "You should frame this!"

It was summer when the picture was taken, a bright sunny Saturday afternoon at the park and Altaїr was wearing this exact t-shirt now hanging on the closet door, additional with the most ugly ass yellow rimmed sunglasses and a lolly peeking out of his mouth while he had his face turned to the left side as if something was happening over there (in fact there wasn’t, he only did it to look cool). On his arms, he held Darim who had just turned two and the little guy too was wearing those stupid sunglasses. Altaїr remembered that they found them on a small yard sale that very morning. It had been his free day after one hellish long night on a construction side and they decided to spend it visiting flea markets and yard sales. His little son was wearing a white t-shirt and his chubby arm was hiding the text written onto it, but Altaїr knew that it read _awesome_. He was holding his mother's milkshake in his fat hands and was drinking through the straw as if it was nobody's business. The little blue base cap Maria put on that morning to shield him from the sun, was now back to front (like all the cool kids in town wore it). Altaїr remembered that his awesome baby started crying right after this shot because he saw something to their right – but he couldn’t remember what it was anymore.

"Like father, like son." Sofia laughed and Altaїr managed a little grin, while Darim craned his neck and tried his best to have a look at the photo. "Seeing this I would love to take another one." She then smiles and Darim already jumped in excitement.

Altaїr didn’t know why he agreed to this. Of course, he loved the photo, but it held grief too for him. Yet he finally put on this very shirt again and sat down with his kids cross-legged on the new carpet of their new home. He held Sef, who sat on his father's lap and Sofia made sure the writing on his shirt was readable, while Darim sat close to his father's left side. Father and son gave their best to look as cool as possible, though the sunglasses were missing this time. Only the awesome baby did not find interest in being photographed and looked the other way when the flash of his phone illuminated the room.

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"So dear friend, what was so urgent you needed to see me right now?" Ezio sighed when he sat down in front of the oak wood desk. He could already hear the music blaring through the walls of the establishment and felt the temptation to dance himself right away. Yes, in his younger days – though he was still young – he liked to party a lot. Well, he still liked to party a lot, only that he now had a wife who would have none of his bullshit. Sofia would beat him with a frying pan if she would catch him with his pants down and that was something she would if he would go partying again. "I bet my wife already started unpacking your lover's things the moment I turned my back to her."

But Malik's face was dead serious and he did not even argue with him about the usage of the word _lover_. So it was serious, he guessed.

"We have a problem." Malik stated and then took a hand full of photos out of the middle drawer of his desk, only to spread them over the tabletop. All of them showed Altaїr, all taken from the distance of a good few feet away from the obviously unsuspecting father of two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the picture of the beautiful mrasayf which inspired me: http://36.media.tumblr.com/3a97b5ab9bc471d809d3d60c9792d9f6/tumblr_ng87ku0Lut1ra5go6o2_500.png


	15. adults

Connor loved his job. Well, _one_ of his jobs at least – this right here and now: _his one true profession_. He loved having children running around him, he loved hearing children laugh and blabber and chat in the space around him. Here in his little world. He loved being the _big teddy_ here in kindergarten. Of course, it hadn't been all too easy for him to get a job as a kindergarten teacher in the first place - and well a _teacher_ he actually was not yet either - but with the help of Malik he finally managed to get this chance and he would always be grateful for that opportunity.

Of course, he knew that he only got the job because Malik made a deal with the woman who was now his boss and though Malik never told him what kind of deal he offered her, Connor was not naïve enough to not know. After all, he had time enough to learn how those things worked. It was either that she would give Connor the job when he arrived at her office with big puppy eyes and his documents and nervous sweating hands, so she would with him also get a big ass renovation for this facility - or this very facility would've burned to the ground. So, when Connor got the job, the kindergarten got a complete makeover.

The women were not easy on him when he started here a few months back - and they still weren't. But it was okay, he guessed. He didn’t want to be treated differently than others only because of his heritage or his affiliations with the mob. He wanted to learn, after all. He wanted to be like everyone else, only that he was not and he knew that. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep this job forever. At some point, he would enter the business of their family fully and that would be one sad day in his young life. After all, this job right here really was the first experience where he was not reduced to his last name and his heritage. A wonderful thing.

Connor even liked to be scolded or belittled by his boss or the other women from time to time.

"Hey there." Connor smiled when he noticed Darim Ibn-La'Ahad sitting all by himself on the swing in the yard. It was not all that odd, but normally he was with Tazim - his arch-nemesis. Tazim, on the other hand, was playing with another girl inside. It was not all too cold today for the sun was shining brightly onto the yard, still, it was almost November and Connor was slightly shivering when he stepped outside. "What's wrong, Darim? Did you have a fight with Tazim?"

Darim frowned at him. And badly so. He did not move the swing, instead, he was shuffling in the sand with his sneakers. "No." He finally rumbled, when Connor sat down on the swing next to Darim's.

"No?" He carefully tried to dig deeper. "Is something bothering you?" Darim looked down on his little feet again and Connor was working long enough with kids to know that this was a definite yes, no matter if the kid himself knew it or not.

"What happened?"

The boy kept his silence for just one more moment, while Connor simply laid his hands in his lap and decided to look around the yard, which was the playground of the facility. He liked it here the most. This summer he got the allowance to set up a vegetable patch together with the kids on the south side of the yard's wall. He would not pressure Darim in telling him about his obvious worries, for by now he knew that it was the best to let the children come to him and give them time to get their heads clear a bit.

He could only wait and see what Darim would decide on doing. He didn’t need to wait all too long. Darim huffed in annoyance, though Connor had no clue what he was annoyed about.

"Adults are stupid." The boy simply grunted. "I don’t want to become one ever."

Connor chuckled. "Yes, I do understand that. I think adults are stupid too." Because they were. "Did something happen? Are you perhaps angry with your father?"

"No…" He sighed. "Well, maybe a little bit…"

"I know that feeling, buddy." Connor grinned and Darim looked at him with one raised brow.

"Do you?"

"Yeah … I am almost always angry with my father."

"Why?"

"Well, because he really likes to dictate my life for me and decide what I am supposed to do and like and what not. But what about your father? Why are you angry with him?" Explaining to a child why Connor and his father wouldn’t really get along, was probably forlorn hope and way too complicated anyway.

Darim kicked the sand at his feet a little. "Because he's so stupid." He murmured. "I don’t understand why he always thinks so badly of himself!"

"Does he?"

"Yes! Since he knows that mommy is in town he always has this look on his face as if he wants to run off or do something dumb again! He always does dumb things, it's ridiculous! And he always thinks he is not good enough."

"But he is?"

"Of course he is!" Darim huffed angrily. "But he doesn’t get it! He doesn’t get it either that Malik really likes him!" Even Connor already got this. Well, he saw Malik and Altaїr often enough together to know. Nobody seeing them both together on a daily basis would not know! Oh, in the past few weeks he threw so many, many paying customers out of the _Plan B_ , only because Malik said so. And Connor knew that this was only because they tried something with Altaїr.

"And how do you feel about your mother being in town?"

Darim was silent again for the moment, but then he shrugged his small shoulders. "I don’t know." The four-year-old kid said. "I am angry because she left us."

Connor hummed. "I guess that’s only natural, Darim. But do you want to see her again?"

"Yes…" The boy sighed and looked down on his feet again. "No … I don’t know… She really hurt daddy, you know? And I don’t want daddy to be sad again."

"You know, Darim, this is something between your mom and your dad. Yes, your mother hurt your daddy back then, but I doubt that your father would be angry with you if you would decide you want to meet her again." Connor smiled and ruffled through Darim's hair. The boy was quite popular with the girls - already. It was cute.

"What would you do?" The boy asked and proofed once again how intelligent he was in comparison to all the adults the two of them needed to endure each day.

"Me?" Connor asked with a silent sigh. "I guess I would want to meet my mother. But I guess I am no good example either. My mother died when I was ten, you know?" Darim looked at him baffled. Clearly, he already understood what dying meant - or at least he could somewhat imagine what it meant.

"Do you miss your mommy?" Darim then carefully asked and Connor nodded.

"Yes of course." He smiled. "Do you miss your mother?"

Darim hesitated again, but then he too nodded. "Yes…"

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The purr of the fat tomcat was loudly buzzing in his ears, while Malik stroked its fur, slightly annoyed by now already. He was used to Pringles loafing around on his lap as soon as he got the opportunity, but right now it was not the time. Right now he needed to concentrate. Right now he needed to focus.

His eyes lay on the photos on his desk and his heart was pounding inside his chest. It was certainly not the first time in his life he felt that way, but it was certainly the first time in a long while that he did. He was anxious, his chest clenching, his stomach twisting, and his hands sweating and he didn’t even really know why that was. Last time he felt like this was on his wedding day or on the day Giovanni Auditore came to their house to introduce the idea of marriage to him. And Malik would’ve never thought he was capable of feeling that way by now anymore – not if it was not because of any impending danger to his son. It was crazy. But on the other hand, it was not only his worry for Altaїr's safety that concerned him, but for the kids involved in all of this. Yet it was an enigma to him why those people tried to taunt him with photos of Altaїr. Wouldn’t they be able to pressure him much more effectively if they would target his son?

Perhaps it was that. Perhaps that was the reason he felt so on edge. It didn’t make sense. He did not like things that won't make sense. It would be much more logical if they would threaten his child instead of Altaїr with them photos, yet they didn’t. But why?

"So what do they want?" He sighed to himself, leaning back in his big leather chair and resting his left hand on his cat's back. Pringles growled at him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care either, that his cat buried his claws into the fabric of his expensive pants and pinched the skin underneath.

"Yes, what _do_ they want?" Kadar murmured. He almost forgot that he was indeed not alone. His brother sat on the other side of the table, looking down on the photos too. His face still looked very interesting with all those bruises and cuts. A tiny, tiny part of Malik felt sorry for his little brother, the rest of him was certain he should’ve punched him harder. Kadar got what he deserved and they both knew that pretty much and so Kadar would never complain about his big brother beating him to a bloody pulp. Malik never got violent without a reason and this time his reason had been pretty darn good.

He was still a bit angry, though … Perhaps he should kick his brother's ass when he would leave. Just for good measure of course. But perhaps this time Kadar would kick back. He would have all the right to do so after all. Kadar had not fought back in the hotel, presumably because he had been hella drunk, but also because he seemed to have thought he deserved no better.

He looked again down at the photos. Altaїr leaving the _Plan B_ , Altaїr entering the _Plan B_ , Altaїr at the kindergarten, at Desmond's apartment building, at the grocery store (the guy really did buy absolute crap), Altaїr at Desmond's favorite coffee shop, Altaїr and Desmond, Altaїr and his kids, Altaїr and him, Altaїr sitting in his car, entering his house, Altaїr and him … _kissing_ in his car, a secret he kept until now.

"Wow, you really did go for it, right?" Kadar sighed pointing at the photo of them kissing in the car. Well, it looked more like he was going to devour Altaїr's face. He didn’t like this. "How could he forget such a passionate, face eating kiss?"

"Shut up." Malik groaned. "This is serious, Kadar. Someone wants to fuck with me, with _us_."

Kadar rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "Well, I can imagine that some people are not really happy about you killing Abu'l Nuqoud."

"So you think I managed to finally get their attention?" Malik answered a smirk tugging on the left corner of his mouth. "I must say, I feel honored."

"Don’t flatter yourself too much, brother." Kadar smirked. "They only want your weapons, not your heart. I'm sorry."

"How sad." Malik sighed but ruffled through his hair. "Well, I expect them to make another move soon. Those pictures were probably only a foreshadowing."

"I guess you're right. Those pictures are meant as a threat to you, so there will be a demand, otherwise it would not make sense." Kadar then said and Pringles decided enough was enough. The fat tomcat jumped on Malik's desk, but before he could even protest the animal moved to Kadar and jumped on his knees. "But I know what you are thinking." He started to pat the cat's neck and the stupid thing began to purr again like a tiger. Normally Kadar would not simply pet him but wiggle him around or do stupid stuff with the thing.

"Is that so?" Malik asked.

"Yes. You are wondering why those people made photos of Altaїr and not of Tazim, right? I can tell you why."

"Oh, do you now?" Malik asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest while he tilted his chin up a little. "Then please do enlighten me, dear brother."

But Kadar let out a deep sigh again and shook his head. He looked a little bit like a villain of some James Bond movie how he was stroking the cat's fur. "It's because you like the guy and because the whole world - with exception of said guy - can see it. You are not so very discreet with your affection."

"I do not like him, he is just an employee." Malik said, but on the same instant, he knew this was ridiculous when there was a photo of him eating Altaїr's face lying on that very table between them.

"Yes sure. I saw countless times how you licked over Desmond's face like this." Kadar snorted, but then pinched his nose in the way he always did when he sat too close in front of the monitor of his computer and forgot his glasses. "Malik." He sounded a lot like their mother. "Please, you can be honest with me, I am your brother and I don’t judge you. You know that. And I know you would have never beaten me up if I would've fucked with Arno like I did with Altaїr. And no - it's not because he has children because his children have nothing to do with whom he has sex with. You shelter him in your own home - you hate when strangers come to your home! You don’t even like Ezio coming to your home! You made sure his flat will be the first to be finished and even furnished it - and don’t even get me started on how you made sure that he wouldn't have to pay a higher rent! You are not at all impartial when it comes to Altaїr. Long story short: _you like him_."

Malik was silent for a moment. He knew Kadar was right. Of course, he was. He liked Altaїr. He liked the way the guy moved, but he could blame his attraction towards Altaїr not only of the way he danced. He liked the way he was taking care of his kids and how he stumbled through life but always got up again to march forward. He liked his way of thinking. He liked that Altaїr did not even have the slightest clue how sharp his mind really was. He … Well, he liked him and that was a problem. It was dangerous.

"And what are you proposing now?"

"Well, for a start I guess you could tell him the truth."

"What?"

"That you like him, dumbass."

"I can't. I won't." Because he just offered Altaїr two million dollars to have sex with him. He was no better than Kadar, exploiting Altaїr's current situation like this. He didn’t even know why he did it. He didn’t plan on doing it after he learned about Kadar's and Altaїr's meeting at the Plaza Hotel. Of course, he looked past Altaїr's stupid lie that day and of course, it took him only a few phone calls to find out about Kadar and Altaїr's date at the hotel.

"Malik, listen, I do understand why you don’t want to, but you can't always hide behind your past." He mumbled. "It's time to live, Malik, time to love, to be happy. We mobsters usually don’t live long, you know? So just enjoy life while you can!"

"Even if living life means sacrificing another one's life? It is not easy like this, Kadar. You see it right here." He motioned towards the pictures on his table and then ruffled through his hair. "It's not that easy."

It was not easy, no and they both knew it, no matter what Kadar said or did. There was a reason Kadar paid strangers for the most stupid things. There was a reason his little brother had no real friends, apart from the members of their _family_ \- and the big question always lingered in the air, when they would all meet up: Were those people they considered family, their friends or their worst enemies?

Maybe he was a bit too paranoid (at least Kadar would say so), but then again, was he? He did not trust Giovanni Auditore to not stab him in the back one day. He did not trust Haytham Kenway to not push him over a cliff when the moment was right. As soon as he would become too uncomfortable to deal with for Haytham or Giovanni or even Edward, his head would be in great, great danger. And what about Ezio? Or his brother Federico? What about Connor?

"So" Kadar interrupted his train of thoughts as if he knew that his brother was working his brain too hard about that kind of stuff again. "What do you think they could want?"

"I guess that’s pretty obvious, right? If they want to threaten _me_ , they want weapons. It's either that or they want me to stop interfering with their business in the red light district. They do not like it how my employees work amongst theirs. Perhaps they want to force me to give them my most successful establishment." He answered and closed his eyes for a moment. The _Plan B_ was not his one and only business in this field of profession, but it was his most favorite. He did not like having establishments in the red-light district, but his younger brother would adopt them from him one after another soon. There were enough other things he had to take care of. "But if they want to threaten the whole family with those photos, then I guess they want to start a war over the reign of New York. You know how those parasites are: They do not know their place in the hierarchy."

"I guess you already told Ezio about this." Kadar sighed.

"Of course. And now we wait."

The next day came with a message on his phone. There was no number to it, but Malik knew it would be an easy task for his brother to find out who it was sending him anonymous messages like: _A nice family you have there, Malik_ and _I wonder how loud your little bitch will scream when I cut him up_. It was still dark outside when Malik swung his legs over the edge of his bed and threw his phone onto the mattress as if it was personally responsible for those messages. Was he being stalked now? Or was it really his enemies trying to get him scared?

For just one moment, Malik caught himself thinking back to Thomas, his boyfriend so many years ago. He did not need enemies to have someone he loved taken away from him. Not that he would _love_ Altaїr, but he loved his son and if someone watched his house and his family, his son was in danger too. This right now was the moment fun and games stopped. Malik took one deep breath and ruffled through his hair after he drove his hands over his sleep-deprived face. He did not sleep well last night after he came home from the _Plan B_. It was not only Kadar keeping him awake, but Altaїr - much to his own embarrassment. Yesterday he didn’t stand a chance against his own brain wanting desperately to watch Altaїr's show and the images of Altaїr moving on stage was still haunting him, making it hard to look at the guy without seeing him almost naked, moving oh so seductively in that dim light under the eyes of a dozen greedy men, his sweat glistening on his perfectly shaped body. _Fuck_.

He could almost hear his crotch telling him _Bonjour, Monsieur! We have a boner!_. Fuck this bloody thing. He resisted the urge to shove his hand down in his sleeping pants to get rid of the problem, just in the moment his phone rang and on the screen the ugliest ass _selfie_ his brother ever made with Malik's phone appeared jumping up and down.

That was really weird. Usually, his little brother would not open his eyes as long as the sun was not up too. It was his philosophy that no human being should ever raise before the sun (because of the possibility of vampires) and due to that philosophy, he got into a lot of trouble with his teachers and their parents. Knowing that Malik did not ignore his brother's call, but accepted it anyway. "What's up?" He yawned into the device, but his brother clearly was wide-awake.

"So, apparently they really want to fuck with us." His brother said without further or due. "Ezio just received a message. We assemble at his house in two hours."

"Who's we?"

"Well, _we_. We two, the Kenways and Ezio."

"What about Giovanni?" Malik sighed. Seemed like things were really getting serious right now and Malik did not know if he really wanted to deal with any of this.

"Giovanni is currently in Florence. Ezio is alone here in the states. I mean of course Claudia is here too, but she isn't getting to be involved." Kadar sounded extremely tired very suddenly. He didn’t like that change in his brother's attitude. "Malik" He then sighed. "I don’t know what this is about, but I believe you should really have a close eye on Tazim from now on."

"Of course I will." Yes, of course. His son was the most important thing in the world to Malik as of right now and he doubted that this would ever change. They ended the conversation at that point and Malik went to get ready for the day. It was still dark when he moved down into the kitchen to get a coffee and the kids would not wake up within the next one to two hours for it was Sunday and they could sleep as long as they wanted to.

On his way down, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that Altaїr would soon move out again and perhaps it was for the best. He should just give him the money and release him before it was too late. Then again, did he really offer Altaїr two million dollars to have sex with him? Did he really do that? He was no better than his brother - well, it ran in the family he guessed. But other than Kadar … Well, he could never do something like this.

When he reached the ground floor, he could see a dim light coming from the kitchen and when he entered it Altaїr sat at the breakfast bar, his back to the door where Malik was. For a moment, he felt ridiculous. Since he met this guy he changed a lot, no matter if other people would notice or not. The old Malik would've never walked into the room so carelessly in a situation like theirs - not when there were people threatening him with pictures or messages. He could've gotten a knife in the head or stomach or somewhere!

But instead Altaїr sat in his kitchen and the coffee machine was already on. In the dim light of the single light above the breakfast bar, he could see the freshly brewed pot standing in the machine and smelled the heavenly scent of fresh coffee. There was hardly any better smell in the world. "Good morning…" Malik murmured, his voice still a bit scruffy. It was quite a bit weird being around Altaїr - well, weirder than usually - since the thing at the hotel. He was still a bit angry about Altaїr's stupidity that was for sure and Altaїr seemed to walk on eggshells when he was around him. They were behaving like teenagers - or even worse, like an old married couple. So Malik crossed the distance to the coffee pot without really looking at Altaїr. "Up so early already? Did Sef wake you up?"

"No…" Altaїr sounded extremely tired and after he managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, he turned around and noticed that Altaїr held his son tightly in his arms. Sef was sound asleep, unlike his father. He looked a bit paler than usual, but that could be due to the light as well. "Just couldn’t sleep."

A part of him wanted to leave again because he was unsure of how to behave around Altaїr, but then he sat down next to him and sipped on his boiling hot coffee. "Too much going on, right?" It was more of a statement than an actual question. Altaїr snorted.

"Yeah…" He moaned and Malik could really not help but flinch a little bit hearing that fucking sound. Did the guy even know how hot his voice sounded like this, all raspy and hoarse?

"I've heard you met Maria yesterday?"

"Yeah…" He made again and rubbed his eyes after he put down his own cup of coffee. "I did. It was horrible." For a moment, they were silent, because Malik had no clue what to say or do right now to make him feel better. Suddenly he remembered how he had felt with Adha by his side. He didn’t know if he would call it the worst time of his life, but it certainly was under the top ten of miserable times of his life. He didn’t know Maria, but for making a man like Altaїr with such a big mouth look so small, she needed to be quite a bitch. Perhaps he wronged her. Altaїr certainly was not the innocent little lamb in this whole situation.

"About the thing, I said the other day-" Malik began, but finally Altaїr looked at him and his face was quite serious this early in the day.

"I really need the money, Malik." He then mumbled. "Maria's husband is a lawyer and I know he is really good and influential. I don’t have a chance against them without that money." He was desperate to keep his children to himself and Malik knew this, he could see it, but when he felt Altaїr touching his arm in such a way only a lover would do, he moved away again.

He couldn’t deny it. He wanted Altaїr. He wanted to have him by his side, in his bed, inside his home and it was the very first time Malik felt like this in a long, long time. But he didn’t want to pay him. Hell, what was wrong with him lately?! He was not at all behaving like he was used to! He was not the very much feared Malik Al-Sayf any longer – not when he was with Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad at least! No wonder those punks tried to fuck with him!

When he stood up again Altaїr growled, but he kept his voice down to not wake up his child. "If you offer someone money for sex and they accept, you should at least have the balls to stay behind your offer."

Malik stopped when he already reached the door. He could just throw Altaїr out, right? After all, his new flat was finished and he could move in any time he wanted, right? Of course, the noise of the construction workers was an undeniable obstacle, but … He _could_ throw him out right now. It did not concern Malik if the young father and his children would be confronted with all that noise. Why was he so soft when it came to Altaїr? What was it about this guy? He already got a whole bunch of men asking him for a private date with Altaїr! He was his employee! Why didn’t he treat him like this? "We do it tomorrow night, after your show." He then growled. "And then you are free to go." With that, Malik left the kitchen and he felt even more miserable than before.

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It was easy to see Ezio as a clown from time to time who didn’t have a lot of other things going on in his head than getting as much different women into his bed as possible, but that would do him no justice and Malik knew this pretty well by now. The sun had not yet fully risen and the light coming from outside was red and pink and orange all at the same time. Tomorrow was the 31st of October and tomorrow night all the kids would run around the streets in their costumes asking for treats. He hated Halloween with a passion – perhaps because he and his brother were never allowed to participate in it. He wondered if Altaїr would go trick-or-treating with the kids if he would give him the night off.

Ezio's so-called _war-room_ was located on the first floor of his big ass mansion at the outskirts of New York. Sophia, his wife, was not yet around and probably still sleeping or minding her own business. Malik liked her, she was such a nice, laid-back personality and she seemed to have a relaxing influence on Ezio.

This room was just as big as all the other rooms in the mansion and Ezio made sure it was soundproof when he built his house almost a decade ago. The door was locked from the inside and every guest who had been invited was already in here.

A large, highly polished mahogany table was standing in the center of the room and the backrests of the fitting chairs were easily as high as the head of a sitting person would reach. The black leather padding was extremely comfortable – but there was nothing else to be expected from a man like Ezio, right? A few years ago Kadar had modified the technical equipment of this room and since then he always cared for having the latest technology ready to use right here. Right now there were pictures of various people flashing on the large flat screen on one side of the room and Malik heard a small snort coming from Edward Kenway, sitting right next to his son and grandson. He still seemed to see himself as a pirate judging by his looks. Hell, his own son appeared to be a lot older than his father and Connor – well, Connor did not fit at all into that family. He got that from his aunt Jennifer, still living in London and maintaining the Kenway business there. Normally Edward would be there too, but he came a few months ago to New York to look after the Kenway Corporation (and after his grandson).

They were six at the moment and Malik preferred it like that. He rather discussed such things with the people now inside the room than having Giovanni Auditore here too. Yes, he rather kept Haytham Kenway than welcoming Giovanni Auditore right here and right now. His brother was by his side, hell, he even wore a suit. He only wore a suit when shit was going to be serious or when he wanted to dress up a bit. Normally his brother looked like a total tramp – like Altaїr. Oh, fuck this guy!

"So" Ezio pointed towards the screen, wearing one of his best black suits. "Those are a few of our candidates." And one of them, Abu'l Nuqoud, was already crossed out, just like a second person, _Jubair al Hakim_ , which his brother dealt with a little while ago.

"They are a funny little troop, aren’t they?" Haytham snarled gesturing towards the remaining people. They were seven by now and Malik hated each and every single one of those fuckers. The doctor, _Garnier of Nablus_ , was a crazy man working tightly with _Talal_. Talal was bringing desperate people from all over the world to the US and Garnier made himself a living out of getting those poor people's organs for the black market where _Tamir_ (just another sorry figure in that circle of monsters) would sell them.

 _Sibrand_ , an ex-military man from Germany was a pity figure in all that. Malik already met him a few times and it was mostly him trying to make deals with him about the weapons the Al-Sayfs dealt with. He didn’t resent him as much as the others, he mostly felt pity for this poor angsty, sweating bastard. Sibrand was the close associate of _Wilhelm_ , yet another German guy. Malik did not know all that much about Wilhelm, only that he was mostly working in Germany, knitting his nets with the arms manufacturers there. He had once been a high-ranking military man, just like Sibrand and he seemed to trust his associate enough to let him deal with the Al-Sayfs alone. He didn’t seem all that intelligent.

Then there was, of course, Abu'l and with his death, those people lost one profitable person. Abu'l – that was sadly true – had ad great power over a lot of companies here in the US. Especially Tamir must be angry with Malik for killing this guy. Jubair wouldn’t have needed to die actually, but Kadar said it was a somewhat personal obligation for him to kill the guy. Something about the _deep web_ and conspiracies and all that cyber bullshit. Malik did not understand that crap. _Majd Addin_ , on the other hand, was a whole other type of person than Jubair. He killed people for fun. Well, of course, he was mafia and they killed people, but Majd Addin liked to torture, to kidnap and execute people. He was the hangman of that group they were dealing with for a while now. It had been Majd Addin's little minions who tried to blow up Kadar after the murder on Jubair too.

There was only one person still unknown to them. They knew there was a ninth person for sure, only that they couldn’t name him yet. They didn’t even really know what this guy was doing behind the scenes, only that he was one of the more discreet persons. He did not like to draw attention or suspicion towards himself, so chances were good he was a wealthy personality, maybe even some kind of celebrity.

"I think we can all agree that it is not likely to be Garnier we should focus on." Kadar murmured. He still seemed extremely tired.

"Still we should get rid of the guy for what he is doing." Connor growled, but his father sighed in annoyance. "We are not the saviors' of this world, son. As long as he won't intervene with our businesses, he can do whatever he pleases to."

He was right, no matter how much Malik detested persons like him. Same was right for Talal too. For all of them actually. They were no better. "Did you manage to trace back the messages on Malik's phone by now?" Ezio turned to Kadar but the boy shrugged his shoulders. "They are not that dumb I'm afraid. After the thing with Jubair – sorry for that – they strengthened their defenses against my little tricks. But I will get to it for sure."

Then Ezio pulled out his own phone and threw it at Kadar. First Malik thought he was angry with his brother, but Kadar caught it with skilled, almost magnetically fingers (he would never drop anything tech-related) and unlocked the screen. "Well there!" He laughed. "Perhaps they are not _that_ intelligent. Let me have a look at this, buddy."

And thus, Kadar was lost in his own little world full of zeros and ones. There was no coming back for Kadar until he would be finished with this task.

"I doubt that we are dealing with the whole group of them." Ezio sighed. "My most likely candidate for something like this is our old friend Majd Addin and Mr. Unknown Identity over there."

"What makes you think that, lad?" Edward asked, a small grin like always glued to his face.

"I dug a little bit deeper since Malik first showed me the photos and it appeared to be the case that this unknown person is responsible for the kidnappings and blackmailing Majd committed in the past few months. It seems he is either not active for long in the mafia business or that he was working strictly in the background until now." Ezio explained and crossed his arms.

"So we should focus on Mr. Unknown and Majd, you say?" Malik sighed. If Majd Addin was involved in all this it could get ugly really fast. He did not like the possibility of that.

"It's either that, Malik, or we give in to their demands." Haytham stated. He was right, Malik knew that, but he did not like it.

"No." He growled. "No way. Before one of them gets some of my weapons or money I cut my own dick off." The claim was lying right at his fingertips; after Ezio made a copy of the message he received a few hours ago and laid it out in front of everyone of them. It was not that he would not have enough money or weapons to fulfill the deal and knew Altaїr and his kids would be safe, but it was his conscious forbidding him to give in.

"I don’t understand what's the big deal is about." Haytham growled.

"Well, father, if he ignores this, those people will kill or torture Altaїr and his kids." Connor stated as calmly as he could, though they all knew rage was already boiling in the young half-native guy.

"So what? He's just a civilian. It would be worse if they would threaten to hurt Tazim. But if that guy is of that much importance to you, you need to make the deal."

"I cannot. They probably want to ship those weapons to Syria or the Ukraine or where ever to. I am not willing to have my weapons killing children over there. Other than this they want to force me out of business with that and I doubt you would like that, right?"

"So what are you proposing?" Edward grinned. The old pirate would never say no to a little mafia war, that was for sure.

"We focus on the unknown person, I want every bit of information we can get about that guy. If he really is behind all that, we kill him. He invaded my privacy, he threatened someone I care for – thus he needs to pay."

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"Noooo Daddy!" Malik had just opened the door to his home when he heard Darim's voice from the kitchen and though the boy did not sound panicked Malik hurried towards the kitchen door immediately. By now it was already late and the sun was setting again. There were not many houses in the street he was living in, but every one of them had already Jack O'Lanterns on their front porches, ready for Halloween night tomorrow.

When he reached the kitchen there was no bloodbath and no emergency, but he saw immediately why Darim was so upset with his father – and rightfully so. Altaїr was standing by the stove doing … something. Not cooking, that was for sure. His own son, on the other hand, was of different opinion when he noticed his father at the kitchen door. He had developed a great liking for Altaїr by now. He was _cool_ , Tazim always stated with big, big eyes. Of course, he was cool, he was an idiot.

"Altaїr is making us dinner, daddy!" The boy explained to him with red cheeks, clearly excited about whatever Altaїr tried to do up there. Malik made a grimace, just like Darim, who too looked at him, before he grabbed his father's leg to pull at the fabric of his jeans. "Daaaaad! You can't cook! Let Malik cook, _please_!" He whined, but Altaїr was adamant.

"What do you mean I can't cook? You are still alive, aren’t you?" Altaїr replied, but his face was highly concentrated, his brows knotted, his forehead covered in thick worry lines, while he was stirring in a pot. From afar, it looked like tomato sauce. So he was probably cooking pasta. Well … even Altaїr could not do much wrong with cooking pasta, right?

Malik entered the kitchen and moved towards the stove to lean over Altaїr's shoulder and have a look in the pot. The boy flinched ever so slightly but didn’t move away, not even when Malik grabbed the wooden spoon from his hand to have a taste of the sauce. He regretted this decision almost instantly.

"Wow … I never knew someone could mess up tomato sauce this badly. I guess we order pizza." He stated, but Altaїr almost hit him with the spoon, though he was grinning ever so slightly. And hell, it felt so good this whole situation, having someone waiting for him at home, cooking crappy pasta like this.

"Oh come on it's not that bad!" He snarled, but as he tasted the sauce himself now he dropped the spoon. His whole face looked as if it wanted to devour itself immediately before he stepped back from the stove and held up his hands in surrender. "Maybe we order some pizza." He chuckled and turned off the stove. It was a pity for the once probably potential delicious pasta sauce he ruined like this, but Malik did not care. Normally ha was very uptight when it came to wasting food, but for some reason he now felt light and at ease after a long and rough day with the others, planning on how to manage the situation at hand. He was aware of the watchful eyes of Darim, when he pulled his phone – a new one, for his _old_ phone, still was in his brother's custody – out of his front pocket and he was just about to dial the number of the pizza service his brother already saved to the phone, when the doorbell rang.

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Three months ago, Bill Miles decided he had no other choice than to separate from his nephew Altaїr and now once again he found himself in a situation he would've never expected to be in. He did not like New York City and he never understood why his only son oh so desperately needed to flee to this very city. Of course, Desmond did it so he would be as far away as possible from his father, though it hurt his mother too and still … If he would've stayed in Boston, perhaps they would've managed to get their shit together at last.

As little as he liked New York, he liked Shaun Hastings, the boyfriend his only son had run off with years ago never to be seen again apart from one or two very awkward Christmas visitations. But – and that was a plus – it had been Shaun Hastings who had called him yesterday, explaining the situation in a hushed voice. Of course, Bill had asked him for his son's address and he even got if from Shaun, yet he didn’t go there. No, not yet. Perhaps a small part of him dreaded the moment of meeting his son after so many years again, but he told himself that there were more important things he should worry about now.

The street was lonely and dark when Bill left the taxi and paid the driver. It was one of the more wealthy streets in this district of New York and perhaps even a bit more secluded. No mansions or villas, only the houses of the upper middle class, as it seemed with decorated front porches, ready for the upcoming Halloween tomorrow.

He could spot a child running around in his new costume already, helping his father decorating the front yard with pumpkins and skeletons and for one single moment, Bill thought again about Desmond. Oh, that boy always loved Halloween. Perhaps he still did. As a child, he always dressed up for Halloween and then he forced his baby cousin to join him too. Those were good times, even though his mother had been sick already back then.

He looked at the small note in his right hand again, while he walked down the street and then he arrived at the house Altaїr was now staying at. He did not really understand why Altaїr was staying with this man, this Malik, but it was not important to him now either. There was no gate or security system to prevent him from entering the property so he did and walked up to the front door. No decorations, no lanterns, no nothing, only the bright and warm light coming from the windows and voices from somewhere behind that door.

He hesitated for one moment, listening to the laughter of children and a voice he instantly recognized as his nephews before he finally rang the doorbell of this unknown house.

Suddenly Bill felt as if it was just yesterday, when he opened the door to his house and family for an eleven-year-old boy, with snot and tears streaming down his little-blotched face over the death of his beloved grandmother. The news of his mother's death wasn't a surprise after she had battled her cancer for years and ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to the illness. It was not sudden. Yet it was a shock for the family as a whole. And then, eleven years later, he had seen himself once more confronted with a sudden (but not really surprising) change, when the doorbell had ringed on that faithful late February afternoon.

His wife had come to him a few days back, her face lit up in excitement, though she had looked shy and had spoken in a quiet voice about the _good news_. _The good news_. Well, Bill never understood in what world it was considered good news when a twenty-two-year-old boy had his second child and no future, no career, no means to provide for his family. It had been snowing back then when Bill had opened the door, his home a warm and cozy haven against the darkness of this cold afternoon, while the light of his house was streaming and glistening from inside.

The figure in front of his door had to shiver in cold and reminded him for a brief moment of a story in the bible, only that the Maria of this very story now had been missing. No pregnant woman in search for shelter against the merciless cold, only a young man with a little child at his side and a bundle in his arms.

He hadn’t had seen his nephew for a few years, but on that afternoon he had not looked like the moody teenager he once was. He had looked thin and tired and highly ashamed when he had cast his eyes down on his feet to escape the eyes of his uncle towering over him. Bill had already been familiar with the face his young nephew had made then; it was the same face his little sister, Maud, always worn, whenever she did something wrong which angered her brother. Bill's eyes had darted to the child at Altaїr's right side, clinging to its father and bright blue eyes had met his. Even those eyes had been a reminder of his late sister to him and – even more ironic – of his late mother. They were the very same eyes.

 _"Hey, Uncle Bill…"_ The boy had begun and his voice had been hoarse and worn and thin, his teeth clattering. Bill had remained silent, so Altaїr had spoken once again and carefully lifted his chin a little. Only then, Bill had noticed the blossoming bruises, which had been disfiguring his nephews face. This stupid kid _. "Can we … Can we stay the night, please?"_

Bill had only cleared his throat and the way Altaїr had been straightening his spine had told him that he sounded like an angry prosecutor and not like _Uncle Bill_ at all. _"Altaїr."_ He had said and had forced his voice to sound calm. In fact, he had been furious, but Altaїr had stepped back a little. _"No, its okay!"_ The young man had hurried to say. _"We'll find another place to stay."_ But this alone had told Bill, that Altaїr did not have another place to stay, no plan b. He wouldn’t have been at his door if Rauf's parents would've sheltered him and his kids. Back then he hadn't had wanted to let him in, at least a tiny part of him. Yet, William Miles had forced himself to step aside once again with a small sigh. _"Margret is about to cook dinner."_


	16. gamble

_There was blood dripping from the table in thick, heavy drops. The smell of copper was lingering in the air like clouds of thick dust and the wrenched stench of vomit was burning in the noses of the two men still remaining inside the room. "I thought we don’t torture!" Malik hissed, spit dripping from his lips in thin threads and thick drops._

_"Exactly." His father stated and gestured towards the person sitting on the chair. The man was dead, that was very apparent by now. It was no pleasant death. It was no quick death. "And now you know why."_

The man groaned in agony when his tormentor twisted the knife once more. "I don’t know anything!" The man cried, his voice high from the pain, but Malik Al-Sayf was merciless when he pulled the large hunting knife out of the man's right leg. The wound was gruesome, the skin underneath the fabric of the trousers ripped to shreds, but it was not nearly deathly. They did not torture, Malik thought again, but sometimes it was necessary. That was what his father taught him so many years ago.

It did not even feel that great when he cut off the guy's left hand to send it to his boss. And it certainly did not feel that great when he finally got the information that he wanted. But he was twenty-two years old and the head of the Al-Sayf Family and thus he needed to make sure people would know to not fuck with him. On this day, it had been his little brother vomiting in the corner of the dark, wet and moldy cellar room underneath the old Al-Sayf mansion on the outskirts of town. This time it had been Kadar hissing the words he said so many, many years ago. And this time it had been Malik agreeing.

They were not the good guys. They were ruthless individuals and they did not care for the lives of other people. _But_ and that was since Malik's only argument to get himself to look in the mirror each day, the Al-Sayfs never harmed innocents. They were dealing with weapons for decades and they took part in the red-light district, but their employees did have a safe haven inside their establishments and they did not sell their weapons to terrorists like so many other families would do just for the sake of profit. They escaped the warzone of the Middle East when shit started to hit the fan. They won't sell their weapons to kids.

And perhaps this was why sometimes it was necessary to torture someone to get him to talk.

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The situation was more than just awkward. The sun was shining inside the kitchen of Malik's nice and warm and cozy home, coffee was brewing inside its pot, the kids were munching their pancakes and already making plans for the upcoming Halloween night that day and the cloudless sky outside the kitchen window was promising a great and beautiful day. Yet Altaїr felt extremely tense standing at the kitchen counter, watching his baby son wiggling in his little stool. He hated that bloody thing, that was obvious. Sef did not know yet how to walk, he only learned how to crawl by now, though he oh so desperately wanted to fly.

Malik was upstairs getting ready to drop off the kids at the kindergarten, though Altaїr wanted nothing more than to escape this house. He did not want to stay any longer. He wanted to get out there, out into the coldness of this beautiful autumn day. He wanted to run, to jump, to fly.

"So" Bill's voice was just as deep and rough in the mornings as Altaїr remembered and he himself still felt like that eleven-year-old boy being scolded by that man for just another stupid reason. Bill's face was quite calm and relaxed when he looked at him, yet Altaїr could not shake off the feeling he did something wrong already. Was he perhaps wearing his shirt back to front again? Did he put on two different socks again? Altaїr left the Miles' home just three, well now almost four, months ago and yet Bill seemed to have actually changed a bit. His dark hair had grown even more gray by now and a teeny-tiny voice inside of his head was wondering if that was because of all the worries Bill Miles perhaps went through for him and his children and Desmond of course.

Clearly, they both would never say something like that.

By now, he understood why his uncle threw him out of the house at last. By now he got why enough finally had been enough. He was not even really _angry_ with Bill, to be quite frank. He was disappointed for the most, but not angry. Of course, all would have been a lot easier on him if he would have been able to stay at the house with the boys, but then again maybe it had been the right decision his uncle made back then. Perhaps Altaїr needed to fall face first in the dirt to finally get his shit together - still, he did not manage exactly that. He was still stumbling through life. The worst part was that his uncle could clearly see that.

Of course. Anybody could see that.

He was living in another man's house. He was working as a stripper in some shady nightclub. This was not exactly the definition of getting one's shit together. He was the fledgling, which fell out of the nest and did not manage to use its wings. "Are you planning on trick-or-treating tonight?"

"Are you planning on staying here or are you going to check into some hotel?" Altaїr could not help it. Maybe it was because he was worried for his cousin. No, he knew that this was not true. Bill and Desmond had not parted ways in a nice fashion of course, but Bill never hurt his son. There was nothing to worry about. It was his pride getting once again in his way.

"Daaaad~" Darim moaned and flashed him that kind of very serious look Altaїr normally expected from Sef. His kids were already more grown up than he was.

"No, I can't go with them tonight, I got work to do." Sadly. He really would've liked to go with them kids tonight, after all, he always loved Halloween since the first time Desmond took him to wander the streets of Boston all dressed up to get candy from potentially dangerous strangers. He loved dressing up and he would have loved dressing up Darim. Then again, his boy did not even have a costume. "Maybe next year." He then turned to Darim with a soft smile. Of course, all the other kids in kindergarten would speak about Halloween, but his son seemed calm. He was not the type of kid throwing a temper tantrum normally. Altaїr was almost sorry for that. It was not normal. He would have liked it better if his son would be moodier like other kids his age. He would love it if Darim would throw himself on the ground at the supermarket and scream about some treat he was being denied. He did not want his son growing up too quickly, taking care of his dumb father.

Bill cleared his throat at that statement and they both knew why. The question was _if_ Altaїr would even have the chance next year again. "Maybe I can go with them." Bill proposed. He went with Desmond and him when they were kids too, but this was different. Then again, was it? Bill was a surprisingly nice guy when it came to children and he treated Darim always very nice. No, Bill was no monster. But of course, he did not know if Malik would like this and right now Altaїr only hoped Bill would sleep at a hotel tonight. He could not afford him noticing what was going on between Malik and him. Not right now.

 _Tonight_ , Malik had said. It would happen tonight. He already felt nervous about it. Crap.

"Maybe." Altaїr sighed just when he heard Malik's footstep on the stairs. Somewhere inside the house, the maid was already going on her merry business and the cook was somewhere down the basement. By now, Altaїr got used to having employees in the house, though they were not his. Malik only threw a small glance inside the kitchen and Tazim jumped off his chair immediately only to run for his father a big smile on his face. Tazim was a really clingy little man. He adored his father greatly and since they were living with them inside this house Tazim seemed to open up more and more.

"Can we go trick-or-treating with Bill tonight?" The little one chirped and finally, Altaїr moved away from the window to ruffle through Darim's short hair and get him to move, while little Sef was making a very serious face sitting in his high-chair due to the lack of food in front of him. Malik looked at him puzzled, but Altaїr just shoved Darim gently into the hallway to get him in his jacket and shoes. Lazy little man.

"We'll see about that, Tazim." Malik answered but the way he said it made it quite clear it was a no - and though Altaїr would love to argue with him about that, he had other things to worry about and Malik probably had his reasons. Reasons Altaїr did not want to ponder about right now.

"Bye Uncle Bill!" Darim chirped from the hallway after Altaїr helped him with his shoes and backpack, before he, Tazim and Malik left – Leaving Altaїr behind with his Uncle Bill. He felt as if he was being left behind with the boogieman waiting under his bed or in the shadows of the house. He could hear the maid upstairs. She used to sing and hum while she was working and he had really grown to like that sound. She was a quite young woman, blond and beautiful, but clearly not interested in him in any way – and Altaїr was not interested either.

Slowly and hesitantly Altaїr walked back into the kitchen only to find his uncle still sitting at the bar with his coffee, waiting for him like he did so many times when Altaїr still lived with him. Would he ever be able to shake off the feeling of being a little kid with grimy hands, which left handprints all over the kitchen near Bill? Desmond did, right?

He took a deep breath and was immediately confronted with his uncle looking at him with one raised brow, so Altaїr straightened his back and walked to the coffee pot. "You don’t need to behave like I am about to rip you apart, Altaїr." The man said. The way he pronounced his name was still the same he always did it and Altaїr still did not like it.

"I don’t." He shrugged when he poured himself some coffee though it was still too hot to drink. "I just-"

"You are afraid to lose your kids, I know, boy. That is why I am here now to help you. So let's get to work." They hadn’t spoken that much last night when Bill arrived at the doorstep, but at least now Altaїr knew that it had been Shaun getting Bill involved and a tiny part of him was grateful for that, though he knew Desmond would rip Shaun a new one. Perhaps he already had, for Altaїr just wrote Desmond an SMS to tell him about his father being in town.

"I didn't understand why she comes _now_ , Uncle Bill! I mean, _if_ she really wants the kids why did not she just take them and run off when I was at work? Why wait 'till Sef was born and leaving them both behind?"

"Maybe she was overwhelmed and didn’t know what she was doing." He was a lawyer, he had no other choice than trying to understand the other side. Altaїr knew that still it made him furious.

"No. Maria always knows what she's doing, that was the only reason why she chose me! She wanted to get her parents mad and getting pregnant was the best that could happen to her. She knew her parents would kick her out and that she wouldn’t need to live by their rules any longer."

"And yet she married a guy her parents always wanted her to marry and even moved back to Boston."

"Yes!" Altaїr sighed and ruffled through his short hair. "I guess now her parents roll out the red carpet for her every time she gets down from her throne. Now everyone is happy in their family. Maria had proven her point, got her freedom _and_ the man she probably always wanted. Now she has money and the love of her parents but they do not dare to provoke her again and they all can live happily ever after. All that is missing are her children."

"Do you really think that’s what she thinks?"

He paused a moment, but then he sighed: "No, I don’t think so." Because: "Maria is not all bad, you know? We had pretty good times together…"

"Altaїr…" He knew that he was behaving stupidly. _Yes_ , they did have good times together, but those good times were nothing in comparison to their _bad times_. Still, he did not like to hear it from others.

"Maybe her husband has something to do with this. Maria said he is a lawyer, so perhaps he thinks it could harm his reputation when the kids are not with their mother. Perhaps he aspires a great career as a prosecutor or even a judge and you know the rainbow press. It would cast a damning light on his career if the media was to find out about his wife leaving her kids behind like this." He guessed and finally gave up on the way too hot coffee and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And then her parents … They are wealthy and her mother likes to think herself part of the high society of Boston, right? Just imagine the shame not only having a daughter who got pregnant with seventeen, pregnant without being married but even leaving those kids!"

"You know we weren't really happy about you becoming a father so young too." Bill stated, but Altaїr rolled his eyes.

"I noticed that thanks, Uncle Bill." He sighed, but after all his uncle did not seem all too serious about this.

"What's the name of Maria's husband? If he's from Boston and working as a lawyer, I will see what I can find out about this man and his plans." Bill was quite an efficient guy, he knew that. He would not rest before he got all the answers he searched for.

"It's Robert de Sable, her ex-boyfriend back then before we started dating. He's originally from France I believe and I think parts of his family still lives there." He answered, but the name of Robert dripped off his tongue like venom. He always hated this guy, though he only rarely really met him in the past.

Bill nodded and then leaned back to meet his eyes again. The light grayish blue of his eyes was digging into his mind like icepicks. Altaїr always had a hard time to sustain eye contact with this man. Bill's eyes always seemed cold and calculating, but Altaїr knew that this was not exactly right. Now he knew what was coming next and he dreaded it.

"You know _who_ Malik Al-Sayf is, right?" Bill asked and it was clear as daylight that _he_ knew who Malik was. Altaїr suppressed the urge to gulp, instead, he made a face as if it was the most normal thing to live with a mobster, to work for a mobster.

"I do." He answered, but Bill sighed deeply.

"Altaїr..."

"Oh my god, don’t _Altaїr_ me!" He groaned. He always hated how Bill looked at him saying his name like it was some kind of insult to him. It probably way. Desmond sometimes had the very same way of saying his name when he was either questioning Altaїr's intellect or when he was disappointed with him. "Yes I know he is a mobster! But I didn’t know right away and when I understood it was already too late!"

And then he did not have a choice but to tell Bill all of what happened during those last four weeks, starting with the night he finally arrived in New York City until now. He did not tell him about the night at Abu'l Nuqoud's mansion of course and he also did not tell him about Kadar or Malik's 2-Million-Dollar offer and when he was finished his uncle had his left hand brushing over his face.

"Well, son, we have a lot of work to do, if we are to get you out of this mess."

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Of course, Malik was not alone in the office when the call came. Ezio and Kadar were with him and his brother already hooked up a device to Malik's new phone so he could locate the caller more easily if he would indeed call. It was once more an unknown number, yet Malik did not hesitate to accept the call and put the phone on speaker.

"I suppose you had enough time to contemplate my proposal."

The voice was deep and Malik could really not identify even the hint of an accent, but of course, that did not mean a thing. Of course, by now they knew that not a single person of the group they were suspecting to be behind all this, was of American heritage – but it was of course quite possible that whoever it was threatening him, gave this task of making the phone call to someone entirely different.

The person – whoever he was – sounded calm, so it appeared he at least felt comfortable in his role. It probably was not the first time he did something like this. Interesting.

"I did, though I suppose the word _proposal_ is not the right choice. A proposal would indicate that both parties would have a benefit of it."

"Oh, but you do have a benefit of this situation." The man answered but there was no emotion in his voice, nothing to pinpoint his mood at. He was good, but Malik after years and years of experience certainly was better. "If you agree to my proposal and give us what we want you will have the benefit of keeping your little plaything - unharmed."

Malik exchanged a look with Ezio who sat on the other side of the table, hands entwined with one another underneath his bearded chin. Malik knew what he was supposed to do because it was like Haytham stated before. Altaїr was a civilian and he could not afford to have the life of a civilian intermingling or threatening his business. That was why marriages usually were arranged within the mob after all. When there were no bonds tying them to another person they did not have anything to lose.

"I don’t know what you think to know about my personal life and I don’t care either." Malik then answered after a moment of pause and put his hands flat on the table to both sides of his phone. It was still an enigma to him why those people would not threaten the life of his only child or even his brother after they already blew up Kadar's car once but failed to kill him thanks to his brother's general clumsiness. He should be grateful, he guessed. "You will not get my weapons _or_ my money." And in the very same moment that he said those words and ended the phone call, he felt as if he just signed Altaїr's death sentence.

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The world inside the _Plan B_ was loud and noisy and colorful and all in all absolutely overwhelming. By now, Altaїr got quite used to it, though he was working for not even a month at this place by now. He was getting along quite fine with the other dancers, yet he knew that there was a lot of gossiping about him and Malik going on in the background, but at least the others would not make such a big fuss about it. And Altaїr, oh, he felt almost sorry having to leave this place in the near future. Tonight the whole place was decorated accordingly to the Halloween theme. Plastic spiders and skeletons everywhere and even their costumes for tonight matched.

"You look good as a werewolf." Altaїr snickered when he sat down at the bar. Tonight was a good night for him. The customers were more generous than usual and he already collected a mountain of tips in his locker behind the scenes. It was already past midnight and he was done for tonight after he just ended his last show. It was a miracle Arno's special effect make-up was still fine. It was possibly the first time since he started working here that he wished there would be another show. Just one more before he would need to drive home with Malik. Until now, he did his best to suppress the thought about their deal and what would await him tonight. He felt lightheaded and was desperate for fresh air, now that he was awaiting the inescapable.

Desmond made a little howl at his comment before he gave one of his customers a very colorful cocktail. Altaїr knew how much Desmond loved to work tonight, after all, he got to mix a whole bunch of new drinks, decorated with fake eyes or thumbs and all that creepy shit - _plus_ he got to dress up! The werewolf had been Desmond's idea and he bet his cousin even made the ears and the tail himself. "You look good too, tough I have no clue what you are supposed to be."

Altaїr snorted. "Can't you see that? I'm a zombie!" He even rose from his chair to turn around and show how much of a zombie he was tonight. Well, Arno's make-up was really good, that was for sure, yet perhaps Altaїr lacked a few zombie qualities – such as being scary as fuck and/or eating brains.

"Sexy Zombie?" Desmond laughed, but already got rid of his torn and bloody apron. "Well then, mister sexy zombie, I'm done for tonight and I would greatly appreciate if you would consider _not_ eating Clay or any of the others."

Altaїr grinned sheepishly, but Clay, who was already there to help Desmond looked a bit odd at them. Perhaps he still remembered the night Altaїr came to the club in Desmond's clothes and made a big fool out of himself. Fucking Kadar.

"So did you bring my jacket? It's freezing cold outside and I need to walk."

"Oh…" Altaїr made and Desmond only rolled his yellow eyes. "Can't Shaun pick you up?" Because Shaun normally always picked his boyfriend up – mainly because he was jealous as fuck.

"No, Halloween party at the campus, he needs to be there to keep an eye on things." Desmond sighed.

"Sorry … It's just ...the whole thing with your dad coming to Malik's place confused the shit out of me!" He tried to justify forgetting Desmond's expensive jacket _again_.

Yes, of course by now Desmond knew about his father being in town. Of course, Altaїr told him and by now Desmond was at least not angry anymore, yet he declined meeting Bill – for now. "It's okay." His cousin sighed a small hiss because of his fake fangs. "But I'll take your hoodie instead."

"Whaaaaat?"

"Don’t _whaaaaat_ me!" Desmond laughed. "You forgot my jacket again and now I'm taking your hoodie hostage. It's only fair. After all, you get to sit in a nice warm car to get home with our heart eyed Mr. Bossman."

Well, he supposed his cousin was right after all. So he and Desmond parted ways once again when the older one moved back into the backstage room to get Altaїr's hoodie and was on his merry way, to left Altaїr behind, waiting for the inevitable.

Now with Desmond out of the way he just ordered a beer from Clay, even though he did not really like the bitter taste of it. Now he just needed something to soothe his mind with, to dull his nervousness. But he almost choked on the first sip of his beer, when a large hand was placed on his shoulder. He expected it to be Malik and suddenly he felt so incredibly stupid for getting tense like this only because of the possibility it could be Malik touching him. Was he expecting Malik to fuck him right here and now?! For Christ's sake, he was behaving like a three-year-old again!

"The boss said you have another show." It was Arno's thick French accent and the stress fell off him like dust in the face of a very motivated maid.

"Another show?" Altaїr asked and kept himself from jumping off the barstool. He felt excited – but only because he could escape Malik for one more show.

"Yeah, you got booked a few minutes ago for a private session upstairs."

"We have an upstairs?" Altaїr replied with a small smirk. Of course, they had an upstairs, he knew that pretty well, though he never been up there himself.

"Well, it's quite funny that you have never been up there anyways!" Arno laughed. "There were soooo many requests after a private show of yours, but I guess the boss declined all of them." There was this small glint of mischievous joy in Arno's eyes Altaїr came to like. Arno was a real funny guy and Altaїr appreciated his easygoing nature, though he already noticed that Arno had a thing for gambling and breaking the rules.

Well, then again, this place was all about breaking rules, right?

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Altaїr asked before he followed Arno out of the bar and towards the somewhat hidden staircase. It was actually not at all hidden and Altaїr passed this thing a dozen times already when he moved through the club, but he never really paid attention to it. It was right at the exit of the barroom where the guests would normally enter the club and the stages. There were no curtains or really anything, which would show that this area was secluded and off limits to the public, only the occasional guard standing in front of the stairs could hint towards the fact that it was indeed a private area upstairs. The guard, a tall angry looking figure Altaїr saw many times before already, stepped aside without even a word when he noticed Altaїr and Arno, but to his surprise, Arno did not follow him.

"It’s the room at the end of the hallway, you can't miss it." Arno chirped with a cheerful grin on his face. He did not like the way he was looking, but of course, Altaїr knew perfectly well, what could happen upstairs. There was a very good reason a few customers liked to have a little privacy upstairs and he already learned that some of the other dancers used those opportunities to get a little extra money. He did not blame them. If he were gay - well he would have done this right from the start. His only hope now was, that his customer would not try anything. There was, of course, a panic button just in case of emergency, that at least was what Connor once told him. He seemed to be one of the few good guys he got to know since he was living in New York - then again, Malik was too, wasn’t he? And this Ezio-guy … well, of course, he met him only once, but he seemed nice back then and his wife was a lovely person without a doubt. And Kadar … he was a bit weird sometimes, but all in all, he was a decent man who simply had a few little quirks here and there. Altaїr would've never thought that members of the mafia could be so … now, nice? He always imagined scarred, evil men, torturing innocent people, bullying the guy with the corner shop etcetera, etcetera.

Of course, there was the time when Malik took him to murder someone, but after all, Altaїr learned it was well deserved. It would've been worse if he would've shown Altaїr how he murdered a family, right?

"What?" He wanted to say: _don’t leave me alone like this!_ But then again there was nothing to lose and he knew that Arno could not be with him to hold his hand.

"Just do your thing and everything will be okay. You might have to get a little closer to your customer than usually. Allow him a little touching and you'll see everything will be just fine, mon ami!"

Everything will be just fine, yeah right. Altaїr looked after Arno when the French man left him at the stairs. Well, he guessed, there was nothing to it but to do it, right? With one last long sigh, Altaїr slowly climbed up the stairs. Suddenly he thought how much better he would feel if Connor would be on guard tonight, but Malik asked him to look after their kids again. He didn’t know why that was after all, Tazim did have a nanny, right? But of course, he would not question him either. Malik would have a pretty damn good reason for something like this he guessed.

Upstairs the light was dimmed and the hallway was long and wide. It was not exactly quiet up here for the music from downstairs was coming through the floorboards, but a lot quieter than down there anyway. There were a few doors to each of his sides, but all of them were closed, with the exception of the last door on the left, so he guessed that was the room he was intended to be. He didn’t know if there were people in the other rooms and he did not care all that much either.

When he entered the room, he was alone for now - alone to ponder about all the stupid things he did. The room was not all that large, but large enough for two people to have a little private party for sure. To his relief there was no bed or something like this to see, therefore there was a pole right in the center of the room and a big ass couch along the far end of the room, moving around one corner and a small glass coffee table. A private little bar was located to the right-hand side fully equipped with a bucket of ice, champagne and various bottles of liquor. Music was playing softly in the background, not as fast and loud as downstairs, but it was just enough for setting the mood. If his place would be swapped with his customer and if he was to be about to get a lap dance from some hot chick, it would work for him.

Then again, perhaps he was better off without some chick. He was at the point in his life when he could understand those women saying they would turn gay because they were done with men. He only had been with Maria for his young life and yet, yes, he would turn gay if it meant he could spare himself from a broken heart once and for all. Perhaps he would be better off with a guy, after all, men would be much easier to handle, right?

Well, perhaps it was not as easy as that…

Altaїr noticed the mirror on the wall beside the door, but he did not even question why it was there. From the couch, he would have a good look at himself in that mirror. Now he used it to check his costume and make-up. Whatever Arno did before he decided it would be a great idea to become a stripper, he was a great make-up artist. The scars he designed were still perfect, the blood still looked real as hell. Before Malik and he would get to it he would need a shower, that was for sure - then again he should shower in any case, right? Suddenly he felt more like a virgin again, contemplating his first time with his girlfriend. Well, then again he _was_ kind of a virgin, right?

Hell, that was all so fucking complicated!

He heard the door being opened behind him and instantly froze until he was solid ice. "Normally you would be positioned at the pole already." The deep dark hum of Malik's voice sounded behind him and Altaїr relaxed a bit again before he turned around and raised one brow. "And I guess you shouldn’t be here right now, I await a customer."

But Malik only shoved his right hand into the front pocket of his dress pants and closed the door nonchalantly behind himself. "There is no customer, only me."

"What do you mean, there's only you?" Altaїr snorted and stepped back a little closer to the pole, only to grab it with one hand - one might say to support himself.

"I mean that _I_ am your client tonight. I decided it would be more fun for us to stay here, so we don’t need to watch out for the kids." Well, now he understood what Malik really meant, though Malik's face did not really look like the face of a man driven by his sexual desires. His face was stoic as ever, his whole demeanor calm and collected when he slowly walked through the room and sat down heavily on the couch, while Altaїr stood where he was unsure of what he was supposed to do.

Should he dance for Malik? Should he get right to it? Should he just undress and … well, go for it? Dancing for Malik seemed so strange! It was like stripping for your best friend! Of course, only that Malik was not his best friend. Was he even _a_ friend? He was his boss and that was about it, right?

"So what are you waiting for? I don’t pay you for standing around like a bottle of milk, alright."

There he sat, comfortable leaned back into the fancy black couch, his arms spread across the backrest and his legs wide open. _This_ was not the way Malik would normally sit, oh no. He was not that type of a guy. Kadar was. Ezio was, but not Malik. Was he trying to play a role? But why should he? With a silent sigh, Altaїr leaned back against the pole. "Could you turn up the volume then?"

He would do everything to delay the inevitable, but Malik only got some remote from the table in front of him and turned up the volume. Fucking hell. He hated the pole still, but after Arno kept drilling him since the very beginning, he was now at least a little better than he was in the beginning. He really did have a hard time getting in the right mood, but then again all he really needed to do was imagining Malik as one of his customers, right? As long as he would not look at him directly - well crap because eye contact was one of the most important things.

He was doomed.

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Malik Al-Sayf was used to having himself and his life under control. He liked that feeling of being in control, of keeping his head clear and over the water at all times. Yet, since he met Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad this feeling of being in total control over absolutely everything slipped more and more through his fingers like the sand inside an hourglass. He was no nervous guy - not under normal circumstances at least, yet his palms were sweaty when he sat down on the large black couch, so he did what every rational night club owner / mobster / gangster boss / arms dealer would do and stretched his arms over the backrest of the couch to dry his sweaty palms and to hold on to something. He did not even know when his legs spread like this, but he remembered Ezio always sitting like this and he guessed his body was acting on instinct. Confident people tended to make themselves as big as possible, right? The more space he would take for himself the more confident he would appear. That was the big secret of being a frightening person - but he noticed Altaїr's puzzled look at him and immediately regretted his body's prior decision.

It would've been much easier to order Altaїr to come into some shady hotel room and tell him to just lie down. Then again, he could just fuck some blow-up doll if he wanted it like this. He felt uncomfortable. Hell, that was probably the worst decision he ever made in his entire life! What did he even think? He was not Kadar! Kadar could do such things without thinking twice and would have fun! But _his_ fucking brain would not stop rambling!

At least Altaїr appeared almost as uncomfortable as he. Fuck, he should just call it off and say it was a big joke! He was about to say something after he already cranked up the volume of the somewhat jazzy music, as Altaїr finally started moving and his brain went dead again. For one moment, he thought back to one moment this afternoon. It was Kadar who showed him the videos - of course, Kadar, who else would have enough time to cyber-stalk another human being like that? But hell, Altaїr was madly talented even as a lanky and somewhat awkward teenager. He saw his audition for this big ass dance school he wanted to go to and since he'd seen it, he couldn’t get it out of his head anymore.

But now his mind was simply swiped clean by the simple display of Altaїr moving to the music. It was different from downstairs, but it didn’t take him long to adapt after all. He really did learn something from Arno and it was not even weird that he was dressed like a zombie. Maybe a little bit weird, but damn, those long legs were really compensating for his costume. He already left his shoes behind by the door to have better grip on the pole if he would need it and it looked oh so easy when Altaїr slowly grabbed the pole with both his hands and with one swift motion flung himself up in the air as if it was nothing at all.

In the dim light, Malik watched his muscles flex underneath his wide-open hoodie when Altaїr flicked his body upside down completely ignoring the rules of gravity, circling around the pole, holding himself with just the strength of his arms. Then, when he almost did a full circle around the bare metal of the pole, he let his legs drop back into a perfect arch before he gently slid down to the ground again. It was only a few steps separating them from each other and when Altaїr began to bridge the distance with long but ever so graceful steps like a cat moving towards its prey, Malik's heart began racing in his chest. This only worsened when Altaїr slowly, slowly brushed his fingers over the torn fabric of his bloodied and sleeveless hoodie only to then brush it off and toss it aside.

Altaїr really was beauty in motion and Malik was kind of glad he was not able to read his mind, but the way he moved, the way he strode through the room as if it was his alone, the way his fingers shortly brushed Malik's jawline when he was close enough was driving him insane already! He wanted to grasp his hand, to keep him close, but as he regained his senses Altaїr was already back at his pole and then he grabbed it with both hands and simply climbed up at the pole as fast as a monkey would.

Arno already told him Altaїr was a fast learner, but he would've never believed it if he wouldn’t have seen it with his own two eyes, how the guy managed to circle the pole supported only with his arms, his legs slightly spread, his feet in this perfect arch he saw in Altaїr's audition video. Of course, the guy used to dance ballet. He knew what he was doing there. It was a whole other thing watching a female stripper dancing on a pole than watching a male stripper dancing on a pole. This was pure athletic, this was like the old Greeks must've interpreted their gods.

Altaїr jammed the pole between his left arm and his side as he lifted his body up again, throwing himself around that pole so fast Malik was sure he was going to fall and severely hurt himself. But he didn’t. His performance was perfect and Arno would be delighted to see it. He got down again on velvety paws and his eyes met Malik's once more, amber burned into the black pits of Malik's face, when Altaїr leant back against the pole - but only with his shoulder blades - and his fingers silently glide down his chest, down his flat stomach, down the dark path that was leading a thin trail from his belly button down, down, down south. But his fingers were stopped at the waistband of his ripped and torn and dirty jeans and Malik watched in excitement how Altaїr flicked open the button and slid down the zipper. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to unzip those fucking jeans himself with his teeth for god's sake!

It was too slow, way too slow how Altaїr got rid of those jeans. It was only one swift rip and of course, those jeans were made exactly for this, but the moment always was something very special to him. Of course, Malik had seen Altaїr naked before and he had seen him dance half-naked before, but now he was doing this only for him and his body was oh so perfect. This one time Malik could at least try to convince his brain that Altaїr was doing this because he really wanted to seduce him out of mutual pleasure and not because he was being paid. This time he didn’t need to share Altaїr with anyone at all, but the thought that his brother almost got to see him like this made the anger boiling somewhere deep down inside his guts.

He was ridiculous, wasn’t he? Didn’t he just gamble with Altaїr's life? With the life of Altaїr's children? What right did he even have to be so possessive over this man?

He watched him grab the pole again, but Malik couldn’t help but groan before he waved for Altaїr to join him on the couch. Only one flick with his index finger sufficed to get Altaїr to come over to him and to get the endorphins swirling through his body like it was spring all over again. He did his very best to not think about how Altaїr was feeling or if he was nervous or if he was dreading all this. He only thought about the moment in the car a few weeks before, about that messy kiss and about the way Altaїr entangled his whole body with his, when they laid in bed afterward. A part of him still scolded himself for not taking him when the moment was opportune.

Altaїr closed the distance between them, using those long legs again like he knew exactly what he was doing and before Malik could even speak again, Altaїr - with one swift motion - climbed his lap like it was the most normal thing to do. He could call it off right here and now, couldn’t he? He could just give Altaїr the money and send him his merry way. But the temptation was bigger. A second later he could feel Altaїr's tongue slowly moving its way over the side of his neck up to his right ear and his teeth softly biting down in the soft tissue of his earlobe, before he got enough and grabbed Altaїr by the hair so hard it made the younger male moan in some sick mix of agony and pleasure.

Malik did not waste any second more when he forced Altaїr's head up and was met with those same amber eyes angrily burning into his. Oh, he didn’t like the eye contact, but Malik enjoyed knowing that. Yes, some sick, statistical voice inside his head made him enjoying that. He didn’t give him any chance to protest when he hardened his grip in his hair, not even when he saw him flinch, but simply moved forward to finally (finally) grab those full lips one more time. It was worth it. This alone was worth two million fucking dollars.

For one moment, Altaїr seemed to fight back and this only motivated Malik to close his free hand around Altaїr's jaw and force his mouth open. He didn’t even care that the special effects make-up Arno used smelled and tasted like foot. Then - and only then - Altaїr finally joined the kiss. It was less sloppy than the one before, less awkward and clumsy, but Altaїr's mouth was burning hot and his tongue knew exactly what it was doing. This was the moment Malik could let go of his jaw so he wouldn’t leave it bruised after tonight.

He moved his fingers down Altaїr's left side and before he knew it, his hand was on the small of his back, pressing Altaїr's lean body tighter against his chest. He could feel his spine arch in that way that told him his whole body wanted desperately to be closer. The next thing he knew was how the tips of his fingers slowly moved underneath the waistband of the tight black briefs Altaїr still wore but before he could even enjoy the feeling of the hot, soft skin the damning loud ring of his phone disrupted the bubble they built in just seconds.

Oh, he knew that ringtone well and he knew well that this very ringtone meant serious business. He wanted to ignore it, especially when he suddenly felt Altaїr softly moving against the hand at his backside encouraging it to wander deeper, but he couldn’t - and Altaїr clearly couldn’t also, because then he felt Altaїr's fingers moving down to his pants and into the right front pocket before he grabbed the phone from it and broke the kiss breathlessly.

Malik didn’t have time to protest when Altaїr answered the call, still a little bit out of breath from his little show before (and from the kiss of course). "Yeah?" Altaїr gasped into the phone and that sound alone made Malik needing to stifle a moan with Altaїr leaning onto his crotch and the bulge in his pants. Did this guy even know how fucking sexy his voice sounded when he did something like that?! Was he even aware of all the pain he let Malik go through right now? What kind of composure it took him to not fuck him right this instant into oblivion?! Oh, he would pay for this! _And_ for stealing his phone from his pocket.

Malik snaked closer again and bit down in the neck Altaїr presented to him so shamelessly only to hear him gasp one more - and gasping he did. But the moment ended and the bubble burst when Altaїr jumped off and almost fell over the glass table behind him.

" _WHAT?!_ " He yelled. "Is he alright? Where is he?!"

It took only those six little words to make his stomach drop into the pits of hell deep underneath the _Plan B_ , for he already knew what they meant. The ringtone belonged to Connor, he knew that for a fact and he also knew for a fact that Connor never called if there was no emergency.

It appeared he gambled and lost.


	17. Halloween

The night, this very Halloween night, was freezing fucking cold, but Desmond, leaving the _Plan B_ only shoved his hands into the pockets of Altaїr's big ass, comfy hoodie. He would have pulled up the hood, but the large dark brown fluffy ears of his makeshift werewolf costume were in the way and he did not want to take them off. No, he loved running through the streets of New York dressed like a fucking fancy bartending werewolf. He was cool like that. Man, he would have loved to go trick-or-treating with the little gremlins; he would have even taken Tazim, Malik's son, with them too, though he only met the little guy a few times by now. It would have been a lot of fun for him and those kids, but Malik had seemed extremely tense the whole night whenever they crossed paths, so Desmond guessed he would not have allowed him to kidnap the kids anyway even if he would not have had work tonight. Of course, a part of him was concerned about Malik's behavior this night, but then again he guessed it was best not to stick his nose too deep into Malik's business.

The loud blaring music from inside the nightclub followed Desmond Miles, when he slowly walked down the dark street, avoiding some of the already very drunk costumed people coming his way and he really felt a bit sad that the night was almost over without him having done something Halloween-ish, but after all the night had been quite fun inside the _Plan B_ as well. He always loved it to put fake spiders or worms into the drinks of his customers only to see them flinch every now and again. Yeah … gay men and spiders … always worth the joke. Perhaps he should keep his costume on and wait for Shaun until the old man would get home from the campus party, though he had no clue how long that would take. Only shortly, he glanced at his clock while he strolled down the street towards home and almost immediately forgot what time it was again. He supposed Shaun would get home in one or two hours at best and he was already tired (some might argue that was because he himself was no teenager anymore either). So he would rather take a shower and snuggle in bed with a few horror movies running on TV until either he would fall asleep or Shaun would come home.

The streets were full of people dressed up in their various costumes, some more bloody and grotesque, some more slutty or _sexy_ , some even a little bit cute, but it was not at all as crowded as Desmond would have expected. Then again, it was not as if he was running around Times Square or somewhere like that. He was still in Brooklyn and running through the various blocks to get his ass home and most little kids were already in bed by now, leaving exhausted parents behind. Only one child he did spot on his way home and he frowned about it, for the kid should not be up by now, but at least the little girl in her lazy ass witch costume was with her mother. It was small things like that making him look back and remembering cute little four-year-old Altaїr and how the boy had been adamant to dress up as a ghost on his first Halloween. So Desmond had done what every good older cousin would have done: He had grabbed one of the white bed sheets and cut two holes into it for Altaїr's eyes, before he draped it over the little boy. For the rest of the evening Altaїr had been absolutely in character and he had been the spookiest four-year-old ghost Desmond had ever seen in his life. He had really done a great job at being a ghost - only the scolding they had gotten afterwards for ruining one expensive bed sheet had not been all too pleasant.

He was not far from home when he noticed how lonely the streets suddenly gotten and he snorted about that thought. Suddenly he felt like he was the main protagonist of some cliché teenage horror movie walking down an empty street at night, but he missed some of the attributes that would make him predestined for that role. He did not have tits to begin with and he did not wear some mini skirt and high heels ( _plus_ that would look incredibly ridiculous too). Also he was a great sprinter and he could climb real fast. No, he would not be a good cast for a horror movie – he would probably survive and yet he felt a little bit tense and uneasy all of the sudden and could not even grasp why that was.

All of the sudden he felt like he was being watched, but he could not see anyone watching him – so he snorted again and straightened his shoulders. "Come on man." He said in a muffled voice, just in case anyone _was_ there and would otherwise witness him talking to himself. "Don’t be such a pussy. It's not the first time you get home by yourself this late, right?"

No, it definitely was not the first time, this Desmond-guy was right, he supposed. Desmond never had a problem with trolling around at night or the darkness to begin with, yet the feeling of being watched followed him and he could not shake it off. He tried blaming his current state of uneasiness on his father being in town. Perhaps he should answer his call the next time his dad would try to contact him. Perhaps he should meet him tomorrow … or the day after tomorrow... or the day after that… Hell! It was not like his dad had beaten him up as a child or something like that after all! His dad was always a bit gruff and snarky, but he had been a great dad and a loving one too! Even to Altaїr, but his younger cousin never really understood this and always failed to see how much Bill really cared for his little nephew.

Well, perhaps he should give it a try, right? After all, his father did have enough time to get over the fact that he was gay and living in sin with another man here in New York. He still was a bit angry that Shaun had called his father to inform him about Altaїr and his situation with Maria being in town, threatening him to take away the kids, but then again Shaun did only what he thought was best. Shaun had once more proven that he was perhaps the only real adult in their weird little family. It was the right decision – Desmond would bitch about anyway from time to time.

His phone rang when he just turned the corner of the street and he could already see his apartment building. By now he was tired and exhausted and shivering from the cold. When he grabbed his phone from his pocket he almost let it fall down in the gutter. It was his father's name blinking from the display and then Desmond laughed a bit. His father had the same weird sleeping habits and routines as he and it should not even surprise him that he was still up that late. For one more second, he hesitated, but then accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear. It felt weird. It really felt fucking weird being called by his father after so long of not talking to the guy at all.

"Yes, Dad?" He asked as if it was the most normal thing to do and the sad part about it was that it _was_ the most normal thing to do, at least for most sons and their fathers to call each other from time to time. He felt nervous and absolutely ridiculous because of it.

He could hear how his father cleared his throat on the other side of the line and could not help but smirk a little bit. Only out of the corner of his left eye, he noticed the car which was driving extremely slowly down the street, but he did not care that much. Probably the driver was either drunk or lost and now in search for his destination. For a moment he pondered if he should ask the driver if they needed help, but then shrugged it off.

"Hello, Desmond." His father said and he sounded a lot like he was reading even those two words from a piece of paper in front of him. "I'm glad you picked up this time." That was more like him.

"Yeah sorry for that. There's a lot going on, you know? Work and stuff like this…"

"So, where are you now? Are you already home?"

"Nah, I'm on my way, but almost there, why?"

"Well, you see, I thought we could talk."

"We _talk_ right now, don’t we? So what's wrong? Why are you calling so late? Is Altaїr's case keeping you awake?"

His father snorted and Desmond knew that sound well. The old man did not know what to make of all this right now and that really meant something, for his father was one experienced old dog. Of course Altaїr's case was not a simple one. His cousin did not have money and he did not even have a real good job. He did not have someone to back him up or a good reputation. Altaїr was lost in the ocean and they all knew this. No court in their right mind would give him custody and deny it to Maria, a wealthy young and married woman with influence and wits. But after all, his father would try his best, though he clearly knew all this too and also that it could damage his own reputation too if he would lose Altaїr's case.

"I guess you could say that, yes." His father sighed and the car behind Desmond finally stopped and turned off its lights. Desmond glanced over his shoulders and stopped. He did not know why he stopped, so he brushed it off and walked on again. "It’s a tough one, you know?" Bill continued, but Desmond could not really pay attention to him. Suddenly he again felt on edge, his whole body suddenly felt as if it was on alert. Weird. "This man, this Malik, is a Mafioso, you know that, right?"

Desmond groaned. "Yes, I do. But I didn’t really know until Altaїr got in trouble with him. I did suspect him to be a mobster, though, but since I'm working for him for four years know, I haven't thought about it too much. He really is a _good guy_ – at least for a Mafioso, I think. He treats his employees well, especially Altaїr."

"What's that supposed to mean? Do they have an _affair_ of some kind?"

Desmond only snickered at that and perhaps only because the way his father asked this very question. It sounded a lot funnier than it should. "Yes they do, but they don’t know yet." Desmond then grinned. He did not really like the prospect of his baby cousin falling in love with a mobster like Malik because nothing good could come from that, but he liked seeing him all flustered and cute when he was with Malik. He supposed Altaїr did not even know how he was behaving around Malik and he supposed Malik did not even know how he was behaving around Altaїr. They were like awkward teenagers and since Altaїr still did not understand that he liked Malik and since Malik did not understand that he needed to really make the first move, they would never get together.

Perhaps it would be better this way.

"That’s not funny, Desmond." His father groaned.

"I know!" Desmond laughed. "But what can I do?"

"He should get out of this house, that’s for sure. He should end this _relationship_ with that man and he should quit his job in that bar if he wants to keep his sons." It was no use - he could not concentrate on this conversation enough.

"Dad, listen, I'll call you back when I'm home, yes?" Desmond then asked and right in that moment, the lights of the car behind him flashed on again. He heard the engine roar like he was watching a Formula 1 race and in the same instant, he knew that something about that car was off. He turned around, just in time to see how the car was pulling to the side – _his_ side – of the street, speeding up insanely. This fucking car wanted to hit him! It really did! Desmond ran, but he was not faster than the car and when he heard the wheels making contact with the sidewalk he just jumped out of the way. His phone fell from his fingers with the loud voice of an alarmed Bill Miles thundering out of the speaker.

The next thing he knew, when he hit the sidewalk was a nasty burning sensation on his left ankle and one moment of dizziness, when he hit his head against one tedious garbage can. He did not really notice if the car really hit him, but his body hurt from the impact when he collided with the stone underneath him and it took him one moment to regain his senses. He heard the door of that car being opened behind him and heavy steps approaching him.

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Altaїr did not even wait until the car was parked or even really stopped when he jumped out of it only to run for the door of Malik's house. He did not care for his fucking make-up or for the fact that he looked disheveled at the very least. He only threw on most of his clothes before he and Malik jumped in the black BMW to race to Malik's house.

When he got to the door it was already opened from the inside and Connor stepped aside to let him in. He was wearing a worried look on his face, but this really was not all that new by now. Connor was a great guy and always worried for the people around him. It was hard to think of him as a mobster really. But Altaїr had neither the time nor the interest in thinking about this anymore, when he rushed inside the house and right into the living room, Connor's phone call still in his ears. There he was, his cousin and with him were Shaun and Bill, sitting on the sofa. Desmond did not look too hot by now, his face was bloody, his pants ripped and dirty and wet, while Shaun was trying to clean up the mess his boyfriend had made.

"What happened?" Altaїr huffed out of breath when he stepped closer, carefully eying his cousin up to not miss one of his injuries. His nose was bleeding profusely, his chin was scratched and there was a cut on his left cheekbone and over his right brow. His jeans were torn at his right knee and the fabric was quite bloody for just a little scratch. Finally, Altaїr found his now dirty white hoodie laying over the armrest of the couch.

"Well, first I was hit by a car right at the corner to my flat." Desmond explained as a matter of course, acting as if it was the most normal thing, while Bill was suddenly studying some point behind Altaїr. It was probably Malik who just entered the room and was taking the whole scene in, but Altaїr did not have eyes for the man sheltering him and his children. He could spot the remnants of some snacks lying around on the coffee table, which Connor had not yet tidied up, and the few DVDs lying on top of the DVD-Player indicated that Connor did have a little movie night with the kids beforehand. "When I got up the driver was already there and tried to drag me into the car."

"What? Why?" Altaїr exclaimed, running his hands through his anyway messy hair.

"Well, I don’t know! Maybe he wanted me to mix him a fucking martini." Desmond snorted, his lips curling into a sly grin.

"Did you see his face?"

"Nah, there wasn’t enough time and it was way too dark anyway. But I fought back and kicked him until he would let go of me. It didn’t work all that well, to be honest, but I managed to get away and since I thought it would be no good to run the last few feet to my flat to get caught while fiddling with the keys, I started running through the city until I thought it would be best to come here." Desmond sounded calm and collected, but they all knew that he was not. Nobody would be calm after such an ordeal.

Altaїr could hear Malik growl something, but then the man turned and left the room with one last command to Connor to not leave the house for now. The next moment Altaїr heard the front door being opened and slammed closed before Malik took off in his car once again to leave them behind in confusion, though Altaїr thought he was the only one of them who really noticed what just happened.

"Fucking hell." Altaїr sighed and fell down heavily onto the armchair near the couch. He could not help but keep studying his cousin's bruised face. "Do you have any idea why that happened?"

"Of course not." He sighed. "I was on the phone with Dad when it happened, lost my fucking phone, though."

"Did the person say something?" Connor finally joined their conversation, but he kept his spot at the door, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. He was wearing some casual clothes like he was wearing in kindergarten and not the suit he would need to wear at his job as a bouncer. Sometimes Altaїr was quite curious how he even got the job at the kindergarten with a background like his.

Desmond shook his head and seemingly regretted it almost instantly when he grabbed his head. "No. Fuck, no." He moaned and leaned back into the sofa cushions before he hissed when Shaun started to clean up the wound on his chin to place a band-aid over it. The face of the Brit was stoic and he did his best not to look at Altaїr, _that_ Altaїr noticed and he had a bad feeling because of all this. What if this was somehow his fault?

"So why would anyone want to kidnap you?" Connor continued. "No offense to you, Desmond, your drinks are really quite good - at least that’s what my grandfather says - but I doubt that your skills in bartending would cause anyone to kidnap and enslave you."

Desmond smirked. At least he had not lost his sense of humor it seemed. "I really don’t know man, I-"

"What if it was Maria?" Altaїr then asked. "I mean, what if she hired someone? What if this person confused us? After all, you wore _my_ hoodie." It was a long shot, he knew that pretty well, but it was a possibility, right? "Or what if she just wanted you out of the way – or me?"

"Nah I don’t think so." Desmond sighed. "Maria hates my guts, alright, and she probably would even jump in joy if you would drown in the shower, but I doubt that she really would try to harm any of us physically or rather hire someone to do it."

No, Maria was no violent person. Sure she hit him a few times in their shared past, but those hits were 1) well deserved and 2) mostly out of fun and did not even hurt. Maria could not harm a fly, but she would not shed a single tear for them either. He was just about to start speaking again when finally Shaun Hastings seemed to have enough of this.

"Maybe it's because _you_ dearie are involved in some sick relationships with a mobster." The Brit hissed, when he finally turned his face to look at Altaїr, his eyes behind the glasses only slits raging with fury.

"I'm not involved in _a_ _relationship_!" Altaїr growled. "And it's not my fault that he is a mobster! I didn’t know!"

Shaun growled. "But after you did know you happily moved in with him, right?"

"I didn’t move in!" Altaїr hissed. "You know that I didn’t have another choice!"

"You could've come to _us_! That way you would not have endangered your kids, yourself _and_ Desmond! But you decided it would be best to behave like a fucking three-year-old again and do stuff without thinking about the consequences starting with damaging Malik's car!"

He felt his ears growing hot like a thousand burning suns immediately. It was not like Shaun was not right – he was and that was the hardest part. He was running around, behaving like a toddler, doing things without thinking about them, getting himself in trouble all the time. Maybe it would be best if Maria would get the kids. Maybe they would be better off with her and her husband. They needed a role model, an adult they could look up to. They needed a real father figure and not some stupid kid that never learned how to behave like an adult. He did not want Darim to grow up knowing he needed to take care of things because his father was not able to do anything right. He was already way too serious for a four-year-old and he did not like that. It was time to grow up, to man up and to let go, otherwise, he would never become a good father, right?

"Easy now." Bill sighed. It was the first time he spoke since Altaїr entered the room, but suddenly his deep voice was soft and probably because he knew what Altaїr was thinking. He was panicking again - And when he was panicking he tended to do irrational things. "We don’t know yet why that happened, alright? It could've happened because of Altaїr affiliation with Mr. Al-Sayf, it could've happened because of Maria and her demand for custody and it could've happened because of something else entirely. We don’t know and since we don’t know it's not wise to assume and get on each other's throats."

"So what are you proposing then?" Shaun snapped when he gestured towards Desmond. His face was still a bit bloody and Shaun still held the cleaning tools in his hands, ignoring his boyfriend with a passion, while Desmond looked as if he just wanted to go to bed. There was not much left of his costume now anyway.

"I say we just all calm the fuck down, how about that?" Desmond sighed and grabbed the cotton balls and disinfectant from Shaun to clean his knee himself.

"You could've died tonight, you know?" Shaun then growled and rose from the spot he had occupied. "Has this thought ever crossed your mind, Desmond? You could've been killed by that guy! You could've been tortured! And all of that because of your stupid cousin! All of that only because you always cover for him and because you always deal with _his_ fucking problems!"

"Shaun just calm down." Bill tried and Altaїr felt his stomach trying to devour itself because this fucking asshole was right. Oh, so right.

"No!" Shaun hissed and stepped towards the door. "You know what? I'm done with this shit! I'm done with dealing with Altaїr's drama all the time! He needs to grow up, Desmond! It can't keep going on like this and if you keep helping him, he will never learn to take care of things himself. Enough is enough. I won't stay and watch this crap keep going on."

"So what now?" Desmond growled rubbing his knee with the cotton ball to get the blood off. He clearly was agitated, clearly was nervous, because normally Desmond would never get near a wound with rubbing alcohol himself. He was quite a baby when he was hurt. Altaїr felt only worse now.

"I tell you what now, Miles." The use of the last name was never a good sign. "I will go home now and I will go to bed, just as _you_ should. And from tomorrow morning onwards I don’t want to hear anything about this drama anymore. Tata." And with that Shaun Hastings left the stage, but at least he closed the front door a lot quieter than Malik before him.

Altaїr's stomach felt like it was now filled to the brim with stones, dragging him down onto the bottom of the ocean while he desperately tried to stay on the surface of things. But in reality, he just wanted to let himself be engulfed by water and darkness and not-thinking. When he looked at Desmond once again his face was burning red with anger and he felt himself shrinking into the chair cushions.

"Fucking idiot." Desmond then hissed, before he threw the bloody cotton ball onto the table. "Don’t worry, he will calm down again." It was unbelievable! His cousin really addressed _him_ with that! He was worried how _Altaїr_ felt about all this! This was crazy! He just wanted to jump up and run after Shaun and force him back into the house, but he could not force his body to move.

"We should all get a rest now." Bill said and finally stood up from the couch. "You boys will go to bed now and I'll take the couch."

"Malik does have a few guest bedrooms, Mr. Miles." Connor stated like he was the butler of this home, but Bill just waved at him.

"No worries. The couch is okay." Because he would hardly sleep anyway and they all knew that. Bill was not the guy to show great amounts of emotion that were for sure, but he was shaken to the core by his son's accident and almost abduction.

Darim was sleeping heavily in the big bed he was sharing with his father for now when Altaїr closed the door and moved towards the bed. He just finished cleaning Desmond's wounds, when his cousin sat on the bed carefully to not wake the kid sleeping in it. Altaїr even got rid of his make-up, though it had been quite tough, but now he was kinda clean again and shed his clothes like a snake its skin with exception of his shirt and shorts.

"What a night…" Desmond sighed when he crawled under the blanket, though Altaїr did not yet know if his cousin would even be able to sleep after all that had happened tonight. Altaїr sure knew _he_ would not be able to. It was not just the accident – if really anybody could call it that – that would keep him awake, but the situation he had been in when it happened.

Very reluctantly Altaїr strode towards the bed and since Desmond always preferred the spot on the edge of the bed and since Darim was occupying the entire other half of it, Altaїr crawled in the middle and sneaked his way under the blanket. His cousin was almost fully dressed, only left his jeans next to the bed and Altaїr would not even be bothered if he would be completely naked. They were like brothers, nothing to be ashamed there. "Yeeeees" He yawned. "What a night… How are you?"

What a stupid question, Altaїr knew it was and yet he did not know what he should say instead. Desmond only snorted and turned around to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, while Altaїr faced his cousin and then rather turned on his belly.

"I don’t know." Desmond shrugged. "I'm still alive, aren’t I?"

"I mean are you afraid it could happen again?"

"No." Desmond then stated. He was not as calm as he tried to appear, Altaїr knew that pretty well, but he did a good job concealing his anxiety and shock. Nobody would be not in shock after something like this, even he, even Altaїr knew this. "I don’t think I was the intended target no matter who that was. Altaїr, I worry more about you and the little guys. That was clearly an attack meant to address _you_ and not me, though I don’t know why it happened so close to my flat. I don’t know if the car followed me or if it did for how long it followed me at all. Possible that whoever that was thought I was you walking to my apartment to get your kids or something like that. You need to be more careful from now on. And, hell, I really don’t like to say this, but you really should get moving, Altaїr. You shouldn’t keep staying here with Malik any longer. _He_ might be a good guy and would try to protect you from harm, but those people don’t care about you or the boys. Just ask Ezio if it's alright to move into your new flat already. It's finished, isn’t it? You find a way to adjust to the noise if it's only that."

Altaїr kept his silence and for a moment he pondered if he should just pretend to have fallen asleep already because he did not want to answer that. They both knew Desmond was right. They both knew this attack was meant for him and not Desmond. They both knew it was not good for him or his kids to stay here any longer. "Sorry for forgetting your jacket again…" Altaїr mumbled into the fabric of his pillow and felt all the more like a kid, especially when Desmond's large hand ruffled through his hair.

"It's alright, idiot." He sighed. But no, it was not. If he would not have forgotten the jacket, Desmond would not have worn his hoodie and thus perhaps he would not have got hit by a car and beaten and almost being kidnapped.

It was not alright.

It was not alright either that Desmond said it was or that his cousin always took the blame for him. "Shaun is right, you know?" Altaїr sighed. "I'm just a big baby and I need to grow up, Des. I need you to not always having my back, otherwise, I will never become an adult or even a good dad. And I need you to not fight with Shaun because of me."

"You _are_ a good dad, Altaїr. You are a fantastic father."

"Am not."

"Yes you are, but you can't see it yourself because you are stupid like this." Desmond snorted and gently slapped the back of his head. "But yes, Shaun is right and because he is right I will certainly never hear the end of it. You really need to learn how to-"

"I almost slept with Malik tonight." He just could not hold it back any longer and he felt ridiculous the very same instant it escaped his stupid mouth. He was a teen all over again it seemed. A teen who was losing his heart all over again to the wrongest person it could find.

"You – _what_?"

"You heard me, alright?" Altaїr grumbled into his pillow, his ears suddenly very hot when he thought back to the kiss they had shared and how good Malik's large hand had felt on his naked back and how much he had just wanted him to touch him absolutely everywhere. It was weird! He had not felt like that in what seemed to be a whole lifespan! Even with Maria, it had been only rarely that he had felt so ablaze by her touches!

"So … are you saying you … Did you fall for him?"

He wanted to say yes, but he could not bring himself to it. He didn’t know what it was now, but he was not gay right? "He wanted to give me two million dollars if I did."

" _WHAT?!"_ Desmond exclaimed and Darim to Altaїr's right moaned in his sleep, but instead of waking up he crawled farther down his blanket.

" _Psssssht_!" Altaїr hissed.

"Are you mental? You wanted to prostitute yourself to a mobster?!"

"Well, at least it would've been a good deal! I could have used it to pay back my debts, look for a decent job, and get away from the _Plan B_ and Malik and all this crap so that stuff like this tonight won't ever happen again. It would've been worth it!"

"Are you serious?" Desmond hissed. "This is the stupidest thing you ever did or even considered on doing, you fucking idiot! You don’t just sell yourself to a mobster and then get away like nothing happened! I can't believe this! You will definitely leave this place as soon as possible. That’s it, Altaїr, if you can't move into your new flat, you'll move back to my flat."

"For god's sake, that’s exactly what I meant before, Des! You can't always be like this! I need to handle this myself!" He felt bad for even complaining like this. He should be fucking grateful having a cousin who was concerned about his wellbeing like Desmond was, yet he was behaving like a petulant toddler again. Desmond was furious and his anger radiated from him like the heat he was always producing.

Perhaps it was the first time his cousin was angry with him like that. In the half-light from the light of the streetlamps coming from outside, he could see how Desmond bit his lips to bite back a comment before his cousin turned away from him to show him his back and left him alone in the middle of the bed with his son by his side. Of course, he could have left the bed entirely, but he did not and yet he suddenly felt far away.

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Kadar did not know what he had expected from this very night. Nothing too exciting probably. He was not a big fan of Halloween, since he never was allowed to celebrate it and then simply never developed any interest in the holiday at all, except for the occasional dress up every now and again to get horribly drunk and wasted. He did this a lot during his college years (which were not so long ago to be honest). For this year he planned on barricading his door, turning off all the lights so no kid would dare to ring his doorbell, order a crap-load of pizza and Chinese food and then spend the rest of the night in front of his PC either trolling around the internet or cyber stalking strangers or just plainly playing video games - He still hadn’t finished the latest Assassin's Creed game yet anyway.

Yes, he expected to spend his night loafing around in front of his computer killing some French NPCs or something along those lines at least. What he did not expect was everything else – Especially not that his brother came bursting into his penthouse like raging bull. He would have run down his door if his skull would be thick and hard enough.

"THESE FUCKING BASTARDS!" His brother's lovely voice thundered through the apartment and let its walls shake. "FUCKING SCUMBAGS! I WILL GUT THEM! I WILL FUCKING RIP THEM APART! I WILL GOUGE THEIR EYES OUT!"

Kadar almost fell from his chair because of the sudden turmoil and ripped his headphones off his head. His first instinct was to arm himself against any aggressor raiding his home to kill him. He did have more than enough enemies that this could be a real risk, right? He already heard his brother stomping up the flight of stairs leading to Kadar's bedroom on the gallery overlooking the living room and to his gaming room, so he finally got up his chair and slowly walked to the closed door. He wanted to meet his brother before he could storm inside his inner sanctum and get pissed off about all the mess his little brother made in his own home.

Kadar moved quickly and really, just as he stepped out into the small hallway that was connecting his gaming room, the gallery, the upstairs bathroom and the steps, his brother reached the end of the staircase, foaming with rage, his nostrils flaring like those of a bull. The face of his skin was blotched here and there, clearly he was agitated. He was on edge, he was beyond rational. Only once Kadar had witnessed his brother behaving like this and that had been after the nanny incident. Perhaps back then his brother had been a bit too naïve, though this was not the right word to refer to Malik, ever.

Malik always wanted to have a normal life and back then his bubble had burst – or rather been smashed by their enemies. Back then Malik had finally understood that he could not live a normal life like everyone else.

"What's wrong?" Kadar immediately asked, before his brother could start yelling again. Of course, for one swift moment Kadar was worried something could have happened to his little nephew, but then Malik would not be here. Connor was looking after the kids tonight and though Connor was still a pup, he got teeth and he was no guy a sane person would want to fuck with. Nobody would get past Connor to harm Tazim or really any child at all.

"WHAT'S WRONG?!" Malik exclaimed immediately when his eyes fell upon his younger brother. "THOSE BASTARDS WANTED TO FUCKING KIDNAP ALTAЇR!"

"What bastards?" Kadar replied. He knew there was no use in trying to get his brother to calm down for Malik would not calm down what so ever, that was as clear as day right now for the way he was breathing oh so heavily and strained and of course Kadar very well knew _what_ bastards Malik was referring to. The news did not come as a surprise to him that was also true, because really what did Malik expect after he just dismissed the claims of those people? They pretty much promised Malik to harm Altaїr if he would not obey and give them the weapons and the money (peanuts for a guy like Malik!) and yet he dismissed them. It was an enigma to Kadar why his brother was so furious now, after all, he did know what he was dealing with.

"Those fucking idiots!" Malik growled and drove one hand through his messy black hair only to stomp down the stairs again. "Those guys!" He added reaching the end of the staircase.

"So what happened?" Kadar sighed when he followed his brother. He really was curious what the hell really happened. It would be a damn shame if something would've happened to Altaїr and this fine booty of his. "Is he hurt?"

"No." Malik groaned. "But Desmond is. Whoever that was tonight tried to abduct Desmond because he got him and Altaїr confused. It doesn’t matter anyway! The point is that those fuckers really tried to fuck with what's mine!"

So that was the whole point and Malik seemed as if he was not really aware of what he just said. "So what did you expect? That was the whole deal, wasn’t it? The money and the weapons for Altaїr's safety. No money and weapons equals no safety for Altaїr. He's just some random guy, is he not? So why are you so furious?"

"Because he is my fucking employee!" Malik answered, his ears glowing red, but it was hard to tell if that was only because of his rage.

"Oh for god's sake, Malik come on!" Kadar finally moaned and pulled at his own black hair. "Just spare me with that bullshit! We all know that you really like that idiot and that you – unlike me – not just want to bang him! You care for him! All of us can see that! Hell, even your fucking enemies can see that! The only people who do not are you and him, so why won't you just admit it and go from that point onwards? It's really getting ridiculous! There is no problem other than the problem you make of it! You would be able to keep him safe much better if you would finally admit to your feelings!"

"I don’t have _feelings_ like that for him."

"No, you don’t!" Kadar snapped before he put his left hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and dug out Malik's old phone to wave it in front of his face. "And you did not write him around one hundred messages with that phone or to Connor asking him about Altaїr or the kids!"

"That’s private!" Oh, he sounded a lot more like some petulant teenager than the head of a mafia family.

"It's not private anymore, Malik! Our enemies know! Our family knows! It is _not_ private. Why are you so afraid of admitting to it? Is it because you are afraid he will turn you down?" Malik did not answer and Kadar could hardly believe that Malik Al-Sayf would be that type of guy: too afraid to make a move because of the sole possibility of rejection. "Because if it's that, then I would advise you to go to an oculist, for you Sir need new glasses!"

Malik shot him one gloomy look of utter disbelief and anger before he brushed it off and walked towards Kadar's door again.

"What are you doing now?" Kadar sighed but did not follow him. He was getting tired of this cat and mouse game between Altaїr and Malik. He would have wished to find someone he liked himself! Hell, why could not those two morons not just take each other's hands and run happily into the sunset?!

"It's enough." Malik explained when he finally reached the door.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"He must leave my house." And with that, his brother clearly did not mean his house but his life. Kadar wanted to just slap Malik, but since Malik was the older one and since Malik just expressed how easy it was for him to beat the crap out of Kadar, he rather stayed far away from him. "He must leave right now. I am done with this."

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The room was dark, but not dark enough to not being able to make out the shape of the person sitting in the chair behind the large wooden desk. There was only one light illuminating the room slightly, standing on the desk, but the person sitting there was leaning back so much in his leather seat that his face was obstructed by the shadows surrounding.

"So you say you didn’t get him." The man in the leather seat stated. His voice was calm and not at all angry, his tone melodious and soft and his accent heavy, but not as heavy as it could be.

"No." The other man replied. He was standing near the closed door, very well aware of the fact that there were guards standing on the other side, ready to take him down as soon as their boss would command them to. "I-I-I didn’t get him. He fought back like a mad dog!" His voice was tripping, his accent made his words sound muffled and he was clearly too nervous to care.

"I would expect you to try harder next time then." The man behind the desk said, when he slowly leaned forward, making sure, that his face, though known to the trembling man, would be kept in the darkness. "Because otherwise, you will not only lose your ring finger."

The man at the door gasped in surprise. A part of him could not believe his luck to getting out of here alive one more time, the bigger part of him though was concerned about this threat. "I'm afraid I don’t understand, Sir." The man stammered, but then he saw how his boss pushed one tiny button on the side of his desk and behind him, the door was being opened. He was grabbed by the guard, which was standing on the other side prior before he was pushed to the ground. The last thing he saw in the dim light of the desk lamp was white teeth shimmering in the shadows and the polished steel of a knife glistening before the pain was clouding his brain and blood was gushing out his body.


	18. home

There wasn’t much for Altaїr to pack when he left Malik's house on that cold morning that was the 1st of November. When he temporarily moved in with his boss, he only brought himself, his two sons, a diaper bag, and some clothes. No more, no less and now he found himself in the same situation all over again. When he would pick up Darim this afternoon, he would not take the boy to Malik's place again, but rather to their new flat and a part of him thought that it was better this way. Though he hadn’t told Darim yet. Only two hours ago, his son left the house together with Connor and Tazim, thinking he would come back to this place this afternoon to play with Tazim like he did in those past weeks.

It wasn’t fair not to tell him and Altaїr knew that pretty well, yet he couldn’t help it. He really was the worst father there ever was.

"I can drive you." Malik offered, leaning against the kitchen doorframe when Altaїr came down the stairs, but he only flashed him the gloomiest look he could. Sef was waiting for him in his little high chair in the kitchen, so he didn’t have a choice but to walk past Malik to get his baby son, but since Malik wouldn’t move aside, Altaїr shouldered his way into the tiled room. He glanced at the cook, who was minding his own business gently humming some tune, Altaїr had never heard before. Sef seemed to enjoy it for the way he was squealing and Adéwalé, this tall black guy, seemed to enjoy little Sef's company too.

He felt even worse when he freed the baby from his chair, though Sef would normally welcome this, to put him in his baby sling. It was about time he would get a stroller for him – then again, those baby slings were hella practical, if it weren't for Sef slowly growing and getting heavier and Altaїr's already aching back. Adé glanced over his shoulder when he heard Sef moaning through his pacifier, but Altaїr avoided looking at the man. He liked Adéwalé a lot, though he was a quiet guy who rarely spoke - perhaps that was why he liked him.

"Altaїr." Malik tried, but the father only grabbed his stuff again and left the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t even know what it was now, but he felt hurt. He felt lost and alone all over again. Desmond left the house before Altaїr even woke up this morning with his father, but Bill at least left them a message. "Come on, I'll drive you guys. It's cold outside."

"Is it?" Altaїr only growled when he walked to the door. "I don’t need your help." He did. That was the point. He did need Malik's help. He did need Desmond's help. He did need Bill's help. He did even need Shaun's help and his snarky comments. He was but a child alone in the dark. Alone and afraid. And he was confused. When Malik had turned to him this morning while Darim had been brushing his teeth to tell him that he was fired and that he needed to leave his house today, it had felt like a kick in the stomach and he didn’t know why. No, that was not the whole truth. He did know why it hurt so much, only that he didn’t want to confess to it. He was so tired of being kicked around like a misbehaving dog all the time. He was so tired of being thrown out like garbage, of feeling that nobody really wanted to have him anywhere.

He left the house without turning around one more time and without saying one more word. Malik didn’t say why he was firing him and he didn’t say either why he was throwing him out, but a tiny part of him was sure, that it was because of their failed date last night. Perhaps he just felt uncomfortable after this. Malik was not the guy to hit on his employees or engage in a relationship with his employees. Perhaps he was ashamed. And hell! What did he even care about Malik's feelings?! It was him being thrown out again!

And while he was strolling down the street with Sef clinging to him and slowly whining about the biting cold outside, before his father pulled down his little hat over his ears and forehead and wrapped his thick scarf around his baby son, he thought about all those time he had been kicked out somewhere. Perhaps he was cursed. First, he had been getting passed around his family members when he was but an infant, later his uncle had kicked him out. The time with Rauf's parents had been nice and relaxing, they were a warm and loving family of five, but since they already had three children, it hadn't been easy on them adopting Altaїr into their home. They only did it because of his late parents and Altaїr knew that. Sure, Rauf had been his best friend back in Boston, but if his parents wouldn’t have been his parents' best friends a long time ago, they wouldn’t have taken him in. So perhaps he had been even a little bit glad when Maria had gotten pregnant and he had gotten an excuse to move out before he even turned eighteen. And though it had been him leaving the house, it had felt more like he had been kicked out. Then the whole thing with Maria happened and he was alone. After he couldn’t pay the rent anymore and Rauf's parents couldn’t take him and the kids in again, there had been only Bill and Margret again - and again, after just a few months he had been kicked out, though it had been him leaving the house head over heels after one of oh so many arguments with his uncle.

And now again he was all by himself. All alone on the cold streets of New York. But no. It wouldn’t be so bad if he really would be alone. It was worse now that he got his little gremlins and no job to pay the rent for his new flat. Perhaps he should just go to Maria, give her the kids and vanish forever. They would soon forget him and move on. But then he felt Sef's little nose at his collarbone and remembered that he was a selfish brat.

 

* * *

 

"That was not a very wise decision, Sir." Adéwalé hummed with this deep, baritone voice of his while he was cleaning the stove, eyes fixed on the task ahead. "Out there he will be much more in danger then inside this house." Malik didn’t answer; he just stood at the kitchen window and watched the street even though Altaїr and Sef disappeared minutes ago already. It was going to snow soon, he could feel it. Fucking November. It was his birthday month and though he would turn twenty-eight by the end of it, he didn’t feel any wiser. Though, when he grabbed his phone and logged into his bank account he felt at least a bit more humane.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, it started snowing, but in their new flat, it was comfortably warm, though the heaters weren't even on. "Why aren’t we living with Malik anymore?" Darim moaned, sitting across his dad inside their new large bathtub.

"Because we have our own home now." Altaїr answered, leaning back a little bit more into the hot water. He was careful about having Sef with him too, but for now, he simply just tried to relax a bit. It had been a hard day and he spent it looking for jobs for the most part. He didn’t want to apply at his former jobs again. He wanted something new. He wanted a real job. He didn’t want to stand behind a counter to pick up orders from teenagers anymore. He wanted a fucking nine to five boring job at some office! He wanted to have something stable, something that would allow him to provide for his family. And then he also still had those debts with Malik… Of course, he did run some errands for him, did some extra work here and there like agreed to help to pay back his debts, but it was not even nearly enough!

Darim sighed. His kid was not dumb and Altaїr knew that Darim knew that he was not telling him the whole truth. Then again, the way all that happened made it pretty obvious there was more going on than what Altaїr was telling his child. Darim had been terribly upset when his father picked him up two days ago to not get him home to Malik but to their new flat.

"I don’t like it." Darim stated out of the blue, and Altaїr found himself looking at the boy again who was worrying his bottom lip.

"What?" Altaїr asked while Sef was clinging to him again, though he was sitting quite safe on his dad's left knee.

"It's always so loud and noisy! I don’t like that! I can hear them working even at night! Why couldn’t we stay a bit longer with Malik until they would be finished?" He got a point there.

"Because it was about time to move on, Darim. We couldn’t stay there forever you know? It was only temporarily and you'll see the workers will be finished soon and then we will have a great time here. Isn't it already way nicer than before?"

"Did you have a fight with Malik?" Yep, his boy would have none of his bullshit.

"No."

"Because when Tazim and I are fighting we take a time-out and then we apologize."

"You like Tazim, hm? Sorry, you can't play with him so much now anymore. Maybe we can arrange something." He tried, but he already knew his son would not buy it. Then again, he really felt sorry for his son. Tazim was the first friend he made after all.

"Do you miss Malik?" Well, that was a really good question, but instead of answering right away, Altaїr turned to scrub Sef's back with a sponge, softly to not scratch the tender skin. Sef seemed to enjoy it when he was allowed to bathe with his big brother and his dad and Altaїr enjoyed it having his sons around.  He didn’t like bathing, but he felt more at ease when his little ones were with him.

"No." He then said and shrugged his shoulders though all of them (even baby Sef) knew that this was a dirty, dirty lie. He did miss Malik, but he had a hard time admitting to it. Since they _moved out,_ he couldn’t help but think of the guy at least once an hour. It was small things reminding him on Malik; such as looking out the window and pondering if Malik would do the same thing in that moment, or doing the laundry and thinking of how Malik had mocked him for doing the laundry himself instead of letting the maid take care of it. He did enjoy being around the man, that he couldn’t deny, yet he couldn’t admit to it either – not after how Malik kicked him out and took the first and only job from him Altaїr kind of enjoyed in the past few years. Then again – what did he expect? He never wanted to work there forever or to live there forever, right? His goal had been to pay back his debts and leave as fast as he could! Instead, now he was pondering about Malik and how he was, while he rather should be angry. And angry he was…

"Yes, you do…" Darim replied with a frown. "It's not nice to lie, Dad." He was serious. His son was always serious when he would say _Dad_ and not _Daddy._ He was busted, that much was clear.

"What makes you think that I miss him?" He then asked instead of admitting to his guilt and accepting his punishment for the committed crime, but Darim rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You are beyond hope Dad."

And maybe he was. "So how is it that you are so clever, buddy?"

"Because _someone_ in this family needs to be." Darim grinned sheepishly and Altaїr couldn’t help but laugh and he noticed how Darim's eyes lit up a bit. It was the first time since they left Malik's house that he actually laughed – if not longer. Since the whole ordeal started – hell, since Maria left him – he found it hard to find anything funny at all in life. But his sons, yes, they always brought at least a little smile to his face.

Altaїr splashed him with water for his bold comment, but still laughed a bit when Darim scrunched up his face and Sef started squealing and wiggling around before he yawned like he was about to fall asleep right then and there. "I guess we gotta get out. Your brother needs his beauty sleep and then I'll cook something nice for us, alright?"

Darim's expression instantly shifted when he pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at him with wide eyes. "Nooooo" He whined. "Can we just order pizza?"

"Hey, my food is not _that_ bad!"

"It is!"

It really was. But his son survived Altaїr's version of Spaghetti al Pomodoro (if only by a hair) and fell asleep almost immediately after his head hit the soft new pillow that belonged only to him alone. Altaїr stopped at the door after he turned on the nightlight for Darim and watched over his kids for a moment. Darim was already out of it and Sef slept like a stone too, snuggled into his _superbaby_ sleeping bag, Desmond got them a few weeks ago. He hadn’t heard from his cousin since the Halloween incident.  With a sigh, Altaїr left the kids but kept the door ajar so he would hear them. Sleeping alone still was a bit weird to him after so long of sharing a bed or a mattress with his son. The bed felt too bi, when Altaїr was lying down on the mattress and crawled under the blanket. It was still quite early, but he felt exhausted, though he didn’t do much other than to unpack the rest of their things. Perhaps it was because the noise from upstairs kept him awake since they were here.

For one moment, when he turned on his side, Altaїr caught himself searching for a warm body next to his. "You are so ridiculous." He snorted and buried his nose in his pillow. Perhaps it was better like this. He and Malik would've never had a future anyway, right? He was a mobster! And he – hell! Why was he even thinking about this?! There was no way that he and Malik would ever have become more than they were. But _what_ were they? He felt like the biggest idiot and the sledgehammer working in the flat above theirs was keeping him awake mercilessly.

After he turned around a few times, he finally gave up and grabbed his phone lying on the nightstand next to his bed. He wanted to call Desmond, but then he didn’t. He lost his phone, after all, didn’t he? Until now, Altaїr didn’t get a message from his cousin or even his new number. So either Desmond hadn’t got a new phone yet or (and that was more plausible) he didn’t want to give him his number just yet. Altaїr felt so cut off it physically hurt him even thinking about it. He and his cousin always had a tight bond. What would he do if Desmond would decide to leave him forever? For Desmond, it would be best, especially after what happened that night, but for Altaїr it was torture. He was so used to talking to his cousin nearly every day, that he suddenly felt lonely and somewhat forgotten. Bill too hadn’t called him since that night. Maybe they decided it was about time to cut the ties with him and focus on their own lives.

For five long minutes, Altaїr's index finger hovered above Shaun's name on the contact list, but then he clicked away. He would not call them. Any of them. It was about time to leave them alone. After all, he was no _Miles_ , right? He had never been. His grandmother had cared for him and she did all she could to raise him like a mother, _be_ a mother to him and even his grandfather did in his own oh so special way, but they never adopted him. They never made him a part of their family. He never became a Miles but stayed the boy whose last name nobody could pronounce right. Right from the beginning, he had been a misfit and he would always be one. Hell, if it wouldn’t be so sad, he would probably laugh at his name was perfectly describing him as a person as it seemed. He _was_ the son of no one after all, right?

But he didn’t want that for his kids. They were his and he wanted them to know how much he loved them and that he would do everything to be a good father to them, even though it seemed like those were just empty promises. He clutched his phone harder and yet he just wished he had someone beside him to hold onto. Shortly he thought about just climbing into Darim's bed so he wouldn’t be alone tonight, but he shoved the thought aside as quick as he could. His son did not exist to soothe him. Altaїr was the one to soothe his kids and not the other way around. Darim was not his teddy to cling to like a child. It was time to grow up.

His phone buzzed in his hand and when he quickly turned to have a look at the message, he was a bit disappointed to see that it was from Bill. A part of him was glad, though. He didn’t forget him. He was still there, right? _> >We have an appointment tomorrow at ten with Maria's lawyer. Be there in time – And dress nicely. No hoodies allowed, son.<<_

It was ridiculous. He had always hated it when Bill called him _son_  because he always did it in this way only old men would say it referring to some idiot boy they needed to take care of. Yet now he couldn’t help but smile in relief.

 

* * *

 

Altaїr felt extremely uncomfortable when he sat down next to Bill in the Coffeeshop. To his relief, they were not meeting in some fancy French café, but in a normal coffeehouse, nothing too special or too expensive. Normally Altaїr would've expected them to meet up in some office or conference room, but Bill decided it would be best meeting somewhere neutral – such as a Coffeeshop. His uncle was wearing a grey suit, just like Altaїr was used to, but since he himself didn’t have such a thing he was only wearing his best jeans and a shirt he stole his cousin a few weeks ago and never gave back - Just like Desmond's jacket, he still had in his possession.

"We will go and buy you a nice suit soon, boy." Bill turned to him and then he did something he never (not once since Altaїr knew the guy) did before: He turned Altaїr's face, grabbing his chin and brushed his fingers through Altaїr's messy hair, just to give it somewhat like a style. Rebecca would need to cut it soon again or at least shave the sides of his head. Altaїr instantly wanted to move away, but he didn’t. It was _nice_. He had witnessed Bill correcting Desmond's appearance often in the past, but never his. The moment could've been awkward if it wasn’t for Bill letting him go again and looking at the menu in front of them on the tabletop. "How do you like your new flat?"

It was such a random question that Altaїr was surprised in all honesty. "It's nice I guess." He murmured and turned to look at the other customers sitting around at their tables as if they wouldn’t know any worries. Yet, they probably did, but it was more easy imagining being the only person in the world worrying about stuff like he did. There was a woman sitting by herself at a table near the windows staring outside. She seemed lonely and the way she was checking her phone, again and again, seemed to indicate that she was waiting for someone. Perhaps a blind date - but then again, she did not look like someone waiting for a first date. Something told him she was waiting for a more uncomfortable meeting with someone. Probably some ex-boyfriend or ex-husband. Yes, that sounded about right. She looked exactly like he felt when he waited for Maria not so long ago. "But the noise is keeping the little ones up at night." He then continued. "Well, at least Darim, he doesn’t like it."

Bill nodded with a small hum. "Darim is a good boy, Altaїr. You did a good job with him." It was not all that familiar to be complimented for him. Normally he was being criticized, but it felt nice and it even made him sit a little bit more straight. There wasn’t much he was proud of in his life because there wasn’t much he had accomplished, but he was really proud of the way his sons turned out.

"They are both great kids." Altaїr then smirked. "I don’t know how I deserved them."

"Maybe that is because you are a little too hard on yourself, boy." Bill replied. For this very moment, Altaїr did not know who this man by his side was. Not his uncle, that was for sure. Bill always was his harshest critic of them all, always pushing him, always taunting him, always challenging him. He had never been good enough for Bill, never pleased his expectations. Always but a failure.

"I don’t know." Altaїr shrugged. There was no use in discussing this right now and right here, not with Maria's lawyer on the way to interrupt them any second now. He didn’t even know if she would come too with this lawyer of hers or not, but he hoped he wouldn’t need to meet her again. His uncle laid his hand on his shoulder and he saw how he opened the mouth to say something again, probably to cheer him up, but then a voice sounded next to their table.

"Mr. Miles and Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad?" The man asked and Altaїr raised his gaze. It was not Robert de Sable. It was not Maria's husband standing there. He had never seen the guy standing at their table right now, but he was relieved to see it wasn’t Robert. The man had light blonde hair, slicked back on his head so it was really hard to even see it. He was of pale complexion and his eyes were of a somewhat watery, aquarelle-ish blue and were looking more like the dead eyes of a fish. Was he sweating? For a moment at least it looked like he was and his left eye was twitching as if out of nervousness.

"Yes." Bill replied and stood up to shake the man's hand. Altaїr followed his uncle's example like the good dog he was. The introduction was short and Altaїr was not wiser afterward. Sibrand was the name of the guy and his terrible and very heavy accent told Altaїr that he was not at all American, but it was hard for him to determine where he was from. His uncle, on the other hand, did not have such a hard time doing exactly that.

"You are from Germany, am I right?" Bill asked with a small and friendly smile, but Altaїr knew that this was just his tactic to check the guy out.

"Y-Yes." Sibrand stammered when he pulled the documents he needed out of his suitcase, just in the moment the waitress came to get their orders. "I was born in Holstein." He then explained when the waitress walked off again after she got their orders. Altaїr had no clue at all where _Holstein_ even was, other than the fact that it was apparently some place in Germany. But all he knew about Germany was the _Oktoberfest_ , _Lederhosen,_ and _Dirndl_ anyway. Well, he never found that big of an interest in other countries - perhaps because he always had been too busy being stupid.

There was a little bit more Smalltalk between his uncle and Sibrand, but only until they’ve got their coffee, then the tone of his uncle changed and he placed his hands flat on the tabletop. It was the very first-time Altaїr felt like his Uncle Bill was protecting him. It was the first time he felt like he was allowed to cower behind him, but it was also the very first time, that he didn't want to do that. He couldn’t always hide behind someone else, right?

"So back to business." Bill then stated. "I believe we all know why we are here today. Your client, Mrs. de Sable wants to take custody of my clients' children and since we are not willing to give into her demands, we have a problem, right? For me personally, I would not have a problem to involve the court in all that, but I believe your client would have."

Sibrand cleared his throat. "Mrs. de Sable would rather not involve the court, that much is true, Mr. Miles, but not for her own sake, but because she wants to spare your client from the shame he would otherwise experience."

"I have nothing to fear." Altaїr growled. "It wasn’t me leaving my kids behind. It wasn’t me who left a newborn baby behind without a word to run off with another man."

"But it is true that you do have another man, isn't that right?" He asked, his eyes resting on his face with just a small hint of disgust.

Altaїr furrowed his brows in confusion before he spoke again. "I'm not gay." He stated confused and looked at his uncle, but Bill's face was serious and he kept his eyes on Sibrand the whole damn time.

"Well, you see, Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad, my client thinks different. She claims she decided to leave you after the baby was born, because not only was she living in a love- and sexless relationship with you, but also because she was sure that you are gay. She wanted to leave because she was ashamed of the situation of being with a gay man because that is against her religious beliefs."

Altaїr felt the heat rising in his body like lava in a volcano, ready to explode, but his uncle spoke up before he could do something stupid. "My nephew is not gay. It might be true that they were living a love- and sexless relationship - though they must have had sex for they got two children - but I am positive that this was not because my client is gay."

"It was her banging her now husband the whole time, not me, after all." Altaїr growled. "Of course she wouldn’t sleep with me after she fucked other guys the whole day long - that’s exhausting I bet."

"My client is determined that she was a virtuous and loving partner during the last five years of your relationship." Sibrand then stated but Altaїr could only snort at that before his uncle nudged his shoulder.

"Virtuous…" He snarled. "She was a mean bitch that’s what she was."

"I think this won't take us any further, will it? I believe your client does not have any proof for the accusations and even if it was true and my client was gay, that would not be enough to take the children away from him, I think we can agree on that."

"That is indeed true, though of course the court would be more willing to grant custody to my client who is a straight, married woman with a good background and a great reputation in her community and the church, instead of letting the kids with a presumably gay single man with no job and a rather shady lifestyle."

"My lifestyle is not shady." Altaїr immediately interrupted the man, foaming with fury.

"Other than this, my client is afraid of the danger Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad's lifestyle brings for her kids." Sibrand then continued anyway.

"What danger?" Bill asked, though he, of course, knew what it meant, after all, it was him who had already warned Altaїr that something like that might happen. But his uncle kept his poker face like the professional he was, while Altaїr already felt anxious again. He was ready to throw up on that very table. Sibrand cleared his throat once again, but then he finally opened the binder he took out of his suitcase before.

"Well, you see, my client is a bit concerned about the relationship of Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad and Mr. Al-Sayf and the resulting danger for the children. I think you already know who Mr. Al-Sayf is." Sibrand said and slowly shoved the binder towards them, so they could have a look at the photos in it. Altaїr almost choked on his own spit. They were photos of him and Malik. Photos of him leaving the _Plan B_ or entering it. Photos of him even on stage. Photos of him talking to some of the guests, photos of him at Malik's side and in Malik's house and in Malik's car … _kissing_ in Malik's car. It was the last picture Altaїr's eyes were glued to: Malik and him, sitting in Malik's car at a red light, passionately kissing - just like they did in this damned Halloween night. He did not remember something like that and he _should_ remember at least, shouldn’t he?! Was this from the night when he had been drunk and thrown up in Malik's car? Why didn’t Malik tell him? Why didn’t he try anything else with Altaїr afterward? He could've blamed it all on the alcohol and Altaїr without him ever knowing the truth!

Altaїr grabbed his cup of coffee without even looking what he was doing before he gulped down the steaming hot liquid as if it was water, instantly burning his tongue. He did not care, for at least now he felt something different than the vicious sickness of his stomach.

Bill, on the other hand, remained calm and gestured towards the photos. "Now, my client did have a relationship with Mr. Al-Sayf, but even though this is no reason to be afraid of, perhaps it would ease the mind of your client to hear, that they ended their relationship. Other than this, my client also quitted his job at this nightclub and is now in search for a more decent job. He had been working as an exotic dancer, mainly as a belly dancer, there is nothing incriminating about that."

"But you see, this Mr. Al-Sayf is the head of one of the most dangerous Mafia families here in New York and he knows dangerous people. My client really worries about the safety of her children, after she heard of the _accident_ your own son, Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad's cousin, did have a few days ago." Suddenly Sibrand's tone was a different one and he didn’t look like a nervous hamster anymore. His uncle seemed to notice the change too when he leaned back and crossed his arms.

"My client was not aware of Mr. Al-Sayf's background, when they met or when he started working for him. He only recently learned about the true nature of Mr. Al-Sayf's business and decided to cut his ties completely to ensure the safety of his children. So, what exactly do you want?" He hissed and Altaїr could see the white of Bill's teeth when he bared them at Sibrand. The way he spoke about Desmond and the accident made Altaїr's stomach clench even more. He couldn’t believe that Maria was behind all this and tried to blame it on Malik and the mob itself. Hell, even Malik thought it was his fault, didn’t he? Was that the reason he kicked him out?

"My client wants nothing more than her children without a nasty fight. My client would really like to see Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad cooperate without the need to involve the court."

"Why?" Altaїr growled. "Why is it so important to her, that we don’t involve the court system? Is she afraid they find out that she is responsible for the accident? Shouldn’t it be me to get hit by that car and being attacked afterward?"

Sibrand closed the binder but shoved it closer towards Altaїr, before he closed his suitcase. "You see, Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad, accidents happen and nobody is at fault if someone gets hit by a car or worse, especially not my client. I need to get going now, for I have another appointment, please keep the binder in case you need to refresh your memory from time to time. You will find that I added a document, listing our demands and everything that goes with it in detail. I would like to hear from you soon, as soon as you have decided which way to go."

And with that, Sibrand left them and not even Bill stopped him.

 

* * *

 

Malik had no clue what he was doing. That was nothing new to be quite honest. Since he met Altaїr for the first time he often felt like that and now that it was already the third day without him, he felt even more like that. Softly he sighed when he leaned back in his chair and started the video on his laptop again, just when there was a small knock at the door to his office. It was not Kadar, for his brother never had the decency to knock. It was Tazim who shortly after the knocking opened the door to have a look inside. Malik stopped the video immediately and felt his ears grew hot as if his mother just caught him with his pants down watching gay porn.

"Hey there." Malik smiled and waved for his boy, so little Tazim walked closer. It was already late and the little guy already wore his PJs. In not even an hour Malik would go to work (another night without the temptation to watch Altaїr's show, another night without having the chance to talk to Desmond about his cousin, for he was still ill) and Tazim would need to go to bed in half an hour, when his nanny would take him. He knew his son missed Darim and Altaїr and even Sef, but Tazim didn't say a thing about that.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" Tazim asked shyly before he climbed up his lap. He was a quiet child, he always had been, but while the Ibn-La'Ahad's had been living with them, he had been a little more open and now he was slowly becoming his old self again. Malik didn’t like the change. Gently he wrapped his arms around Tazim when the boy sat down on his lap and looked at his father's open laptop with the video still on screen.

"I was just watching something." Malik explained and kissed the crown of his head - something his own father would've never done, something he himself only rarely did and more frequently only since he had a chance of observing Altaїr with his kids.

"What's this?" Tazim then inquired furthermore and Malik chuckled softly. "You want to see this?" He then asked, even though he had no clue why that was. He was not ashamed of watching the video over and over again - well, perhaps just a little bit and just when another adult would notice - after all that was all he had left now, wasn’t it? "Yes!" Tazim chirped and his father pressed play again. He was not afraid of Tazim's reaction and why should he be? His son had no clue after all and since he would see Altaїr never again, he could as well give in into this little moment of weakness.

The video was taken by an inexperienced filmmaker and his only help was a tripod awkwardly standing in the middle of some training room. The room was not all too big but the size indicated that it was normally a room a whole dance class would practice in, but now there was only a teenage boy sitting in the middle of the room, while the music in the background slowly starting its rhythm.

"Is that Altaїr?" Tazim asked in awe when the boy with the dark blue dyed hair started moving like a snake and Malik gently brushed through Tazim's hair. "Yes." He then sighed.

"You miss him, right?" Tazim asked further, digging a little bit deeper, but a bit shyer this time, when he leaned back against his father's chest while his blue eyes were glued to the laptop screen, where Altaїr was dancing.

"Yes." Malik sighed once more and never in his life had he felt more stupid.

 

* * *

 

The kids were already in their beds - no, that was not true actually. Sef was in his crib, but Darim was sleeping on the sofa right next to his father after he fell asleep during the movie he oh so desperately wanted to see. It was still running now after Altaїr pulled a soft blanket over his son and opened the old laptop he had gotten from Desmond oh so long ago. The internet connection was not as nearly as good as in Malik's home here, but it was still a lot better than before in this apartment building.

Tonight the workers were not drilling holes above them and there was no sledgehammer destroying walls. It was quiet. Finally quiet. But he could not even think about going to sleep now. Sibrand's words were still haunting him and the document he enclosed in the binder even more so. Maria wanted to destroy him, to blackmail him, to crush him. If he would keep up his resistance, she would once more show her ugly grimace. And yet, was this really the Maria he knew? Was this still _his_ Maria - that pretty, wonderful girl he fought with in class so many years ago? Or was this her husband's influence?

He could not believe that it really had been Maria behind the attack on Desmond - or rather him. How far would this woman go to get what she wanted and why didn’t she just went to court with this? Did she have something to lose? He wanted to talk with Malik about this. He wanted to talk with Desmond about this. Yet he couldn’t. And fuck! He didn’t want to want to talk to Malik!

With a soft sigh, he opened the browser and logged into his bank account. He didn’t even know why he did it, perhaps only to see how much was left of his paycheck and how long he could go on with the remaining money.

First, when he got into his account, he thought he was seeing things because he slept only so little lately, then he thought it must be an error, so he refreshed the page. One time, twice, three times. The error remained. So, Altaїr shyly clicked on the details to see what it was all about. "Motherfucker…" Altaїr then gasped when he saw the little text saying _"I'm sorry"_ right beside the incoming payment of two and a half Million US Dollars.

 


	19. do it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried and therefore I shall not be judged.
> 
>  
> 
> ...sorry though...

Bill Miles' eyes were fixated on the laptop screen, while his young nephew was pacing around the living room of his new flat. "That is an awful lot of money." Bill stated dryly, but he was not at all as calm as he tried to appear. Of course not! There were two and a half million dollars on his nephew's bank account that should not be there! A million thoughts were racing through his mind of how he got to this large amount of money, but since he would not get an answer by himself, he then looked up and closed the laptop carefully. "Why did he transfer you so much money?"

Altaїr did not stop his pacing and Bill was certain he would run holes into the new wooden floorboards if he would keep it up like this. Sef was sitting in his cot, clinging to the bars separating him from the world around, his watchful brown eyes on his father. If he wouldn’t know any better, Bill would've said Sef looked concerned. Well, maybe he really did.

"I don’t know!" Altaїr then exclaimed throwing his hands in the air, before he finally stopped only to let himself fall to the ground to sit there. He was restless like a caged tiger.

"So what does it mean, this ' _I'm sorry'_?" Bill then asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I don’t know!" His nephew again exclaimed when he ruffled his hair and then leaned his forehead against his left raised knee. "I really don’t know." Bill, however, knew that Altaїr at least had a guess.

"What did you do, to earn that much money?" He grilled him further.

"Nothing."

"Is this why Desmond is angry with you?"

"No!" Altaїr hissed. "I mean … Maybe … I don’t know, Uncle Bill! If I would know I wouldn’t have shown you this!" Other people would jump in joy suddenly having so much money, but Altaїr seemed devastated. First Bill thought that his nephew had done something wrong to earn that much money, maybe even prostituted himself to get the money he so desperately needed, then he thought Altaїr was worried about possible repercussions because of the money, but now it was pretty clear to him that it was something entirely different making him so tense and anxious. A part of him even thought that his nephew looked _hurt_.

"Altaїr." Bill began and his nephew looked up at him. His look was heartbreaking, even for a man like Bill Miles. He was confused and angry and sad and lost and hurt and frightened all at once. It was two days since their last meeting and since they got the binder from this Sibrand-guy and by now Bill had more than enough time to check out this guy. Working so long as a lawyer had gained him a lot very profitable contacts, so checking the background of any person at all was not that big of a deal for him. He thought about grilling Altaїr further about the money, digging deeper and deeper, but he had the sinking feeling that his nephew really was on the verge of a breakdown.

After all, it had not been Altaїr who had called Bill this morning to meet up so early in the day; it really had been this Connor-guy, the kindergarten teacher of Altaїr's oldest son. The conversation had been one awkward one, but Bill had been even more concerned about what he had heard of Connor. Apparently, Darim had talked to him this morning, telling him that his father was not well and that he was worried.

Of course, Bill did not say anything to Altaїr. He was bad enough already, but when he would learn that his son was so worried about him that he even got his kindergarten teacher to call Bill, he would only be worse. Bill knew his nephew long and well enough to know this about him for certain. He was feeling like he was the biggest loser on earth – Altaїr had always felt this way – and now it was only worse. He was on the brink of a total collapse.

"I checked Sibrand's background." Bill then changed the topic. It was better like this. Of course, he had made a copy of the binder Altaїr got from this guy and of the threats against Altaїr. "It seems that he is not even a real lawyer. My contacts could not find any entries of him being a legitimate lawyer, at least not in Germany. He never went to a university anywhere, but suddenly, half a year ago, his name appeared in the register as a lawyer in the lawyer's office of Maria's husband. He is directly working for Robert de Sable, as it seems now. Of course, that is nothing all too surprising, but I believe that he is only the puppet executing Robert's instructions."

"I never thought Maria would be so evil." Altaїr murmured and suddenly Bill wished back the moody teenager the boy had been. They fought a lot while Altaїr had been living with them, of course, but his nephew had the spirit of a fighter, he had a head hard as steel – those things slowly seemed to fade away from his personality. He could not bear seeing him so small and resigned. "I never expected she would try to destroy me like this. I mean … What can I do? Why bother fighting? Even if I get to keep my kids, our life will be a living nightmare. Why not giving up? Why not giving her what she wants."

"I doubt that it really is Maria behind all this, Altaїr." Bill sighed. He could not believe his nephew. He could not believe seeing him so _weak_ and it made him angry. They – the Miles – were no weaklings. "And now get your shit together, Altaїr." He growled. "I can't believe what you're saying!"

"What do you even know?" Altaїr then hissed when he got back to his feet. "You have read what this Sibrand wrote! Not giving in is my doom!" Not being with his children would be his doom too and they both knew this. "I have two and a half million dollars, which I cannot explain to the court if they were about to check! They will think I committed some crime in Malik's order!"

"Then you need to give back the money." Bill stated. "You just need to give it back and cut all your ties to Malik. You already did, right? I do not see the problem. I don’t see why you are so angry about the money anyway."

"Because I-" He began and then stopped. "Because he-" And again he stopped and drove his hands over his face. Oh, Bill knew this expression and this very erratic behavior well. Altaїr was behaving exactly like his mother once had. He would never forget the week he traveled to Syria to look after his sister studying over there and how she behaved during those few days. He would never forget how she paced through her messy little dorm room, cursing and mumbling, driving her hands over her face, ruffling through her light brown hair like some insane woman. She never was one to be calm and collected – no, not his sister. His sister had been just like Altaїr, active and always antsy about something. That had been the week when he first met Umar Ibn-La'Ahad as well – this oh so very calm and laid back guy who swooped her off her feet.

"Because you are in love with him and he kicked you out of his life – which is the best thing he could've done – and then paid you so you would not bother with him again." He stated calmly. It was not easy for him seeing his nephew so distressed. He still remembered the little wailing bundle that he received when he traveled to Syria twenty-two years ago again after his sister's and Umar's death. His parents had sent him to get Altaїr and since then Bill Miles could not forget the feeling of holding his little nephew tightly in his arms and finding so much of his late sister in this boy. Only his eyes were those of Umar.

Altaїr looked at him in surprise, but then he made a sound like a hurt animal would produce before he sat down heavily on the sofa again. "You are right." Altaїr growled. "I'll give it back, but first I want to talk to him about this."

"Altaїr you really shouldn’t do this. You-"

"But then again I should keep the money! I can provide for my boys with that money! I can search for a decent job without having to worry about it!" Perhaps that was even why Malik transferred the money to him, though Bill still thought that his nephew was holding something back he was embarrassed to talk about.

"Don’t worry about money, son." He sighed. "I-"

"No, Uncle Bill! I do not want your money or Desmond's or anyone's! I want to make it by myself! It's time to grow up, right?" It would be forlorn hope to point out to Altaїr, that he would not have made it by himself if he would use Malik's money.

"Well normally I would always applause you for such a statement, but there is something I need to tell you."

 

* * *

 

It was snowing as if the world decided that it was coming to an end outside the house and way too much for the beginning of November for Malik's liking. He was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window like he could miss something. Tazim already went to bed and the nanny was rummaging around somewhere inside the house. He was already dressed and ready for yet another night inside the Plan B, whether he liked it or not. "So, what are you going to do now?" The deep voice of Adéwalé was sounding from the stove and for a moment, Malik thought that he hardly saw Adé anywhere else in the house.

"I don't know what you mean, Adé."

"I mean the whole situation with Altaїr and our special friends." Adéwalé hummed, while he was taking care of the dishes.

"There is nothing to worry about now." Malik murmured. He wanted to sound confident and neutral, but of course, he was not successful - and that all the more angered him. It angered him that he was so fucking concerned about Altaїr. Since he kicked him out, he could not help but think about him, think about how he and his kids were if they were alright if they were eating right and if they needed perhaps help.

"Of course not, Boss." Adé hummed once again before he turned his back to the stove and looked at him with his almost black eyes. "But you are aware that Altaїr and his kids are more at risk outside this house, right?"

"And that concerns me how?" Malik snorted. He needed desperately to come back to his own self. He needed to delete Altaїr from his brains, but he knew that this would not be all too easy for he would always be reminded of him, for example just by looking at Desmond. Of course, he could as well get rid of Desmond too, but this would be more than unfair, wouldn’t it? No, that was not like him and he would need to live with the mistake he had made with Altaїr.

Adé didn’t answer, instead, he straightened his back and looked at the clock. "Anyway, Lucy said we should perhaps strengthen our security in here, because if those guys should really stop threatening Altaїr, they probably will turn on Tazim, right?"

"Perhaps I should _hire_ another maid." Malik sighed. He would not have his son endangered in any way whatsoever. "Or a second nanny, after all, Connor and Lucy can't always be here-"

There was a loud knock on the front door and immediately Malik's whole body went stiff and alarmed, just as Adéwalé's. The big black man turned immediately towards the kitchen door. Who would knock at such a time? Who would _knock_ anyway and not ring the doorbell? For once, he thought that it must be a person who knew that there was a child already sleeping inside the home, but then he brushed off the thought and declared it as nonsense. Malik paused a moment, but when Adé turned to move to the front door, Malik stopped him and rose himself.

"It's alright, Adé. I'll take care of this, just finish your day and get home." He then said and left the kitchen. Altaїr never noticed during the time he spent at Malik's home, but there were a lot more security measures than anyone might have suspected. The entire house was under surveillance, his staff was trained killers and security, just like Adé for example or Liam, who was working as their gardener - a hobby of his apparently. So there was really no need for Malik to worry that much who would be in front of his door. Even if he would get shot as soon as he would open the door, his son would be in no danger, for Lucy was with him.

The knocking sound reoccurred as he stepped closer to the door. For a moment he thought about looking through the peephole, but then he closed his hand around the doorknob and opened the door. Later he would probably think that he was behaving risky and stupid for no reason at all, but in this instant, he felt like he was not worried for his own safety – and that made him feel even more ridiculous, because a part of him already knew that this was because he was behaving like a lovesick teenager.

As soon as the door was open, he was shoved backward into the hallway and his instincts were kicking in immediately, forcing him to shield himself for the blow that would hit next. The punch came out of the blue and hit him harder than he would've expected against the jaw to send him stumbling back. Malik never lost his footing, though – oh no – he was a way too experienced fighter for something like that. He already raised his own fist to meet his aggressor, when he could hear the stomping of the person entering his home, but then he stopped – a big mistake. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated a desperate man, perhaps he shouldn't have underestimated Altaїr's rage when he hit him again, but this time, Malik hit back. His nose was bleeding – but so was Altaїr's when he punched him and the younger male stumbled a lot more than he did.

"Are you fucking mental?!" Malik hissed, just when Altaїr lunged at him again, only so Malik could grab him by the shoulder and threw the boy into the living room. Altaїr stumbled, lost his balance and fell on the coffee table before he slammed down on the ground moaning in pain. Malik was quite impressed how fast Altaїr got back to his feet again to jump him.

"You fucking asshole!" Altaїr growled when he tried to punch him once more, only for Malik to duck down just in time when Altaїr's boney fist was about to collide with his head again. With one swift move, Malik was behind Altaїr, grabbed his left arm and wrenched it behind his back, before he dragged him close to his body to hold him in place. He didn’t care for Altaїr's desperate struggle or for his legs kicking and trying to get free again.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Malik growled, tasting the copper of the blood running from his nose down his lips.

"What's wrong?!" Altaїr growled before he simply slammed back his head against Malik's skull, an attack Malik wouldn’t have expected at all, but an attack that also hurt Altaїr himself. Enough was enough. Malik tackled the young father without thinking too much about it. He didn’t care for the loud shattering of the vase standing around, or of the bookshelf coming down the wall after they slammed into it. For a brief moment he was wondering why neither Adéwalé nor Lucy would come running to see what was wrong, but then again he wouldn’t have noticed if they would've anyway.

"Did you think you could just give me money to delete me from your fucking life?!" Altaїr was behaving irrational – just like Malik did – that was at least if he wouldn’t feel anything for Malik. His heart made a jump, but his head hurt and so did his fists – and his knee when Altaїr kicked him as hard he could.

"Then give it back, you fucking useless piece of shit!" Malik growled, staggering back a few steps. By now, he did not even know what he was saying, all he knew was that Altaїr was outraged because Malik wanted to shove him away – or maybe because he kicked him out.

"You think you can buy everything with just enough money, don’t you?!" Altaїr hissed – if only to say something. Their words didn’t have any meaning whatsoever and they both pretty much knew this. They just tried to escape with his. They were fighting like mad dogs, just to escape the real thing. The next moment Malik saw how Altaїr grabbed some stupid little statue from one of the shelves to throw it at him and Malik finally had enough. His body crashed into Altaїr's, sending him down on his back onto the hard floorboards and knocking the air out of his lungs. Only this time, he would not punch him, he would not throw an insult at him, he would not fend off his next punch - instead Malik grabbed Altaїr's thin wrists and pinned them above his head, before he slammed down his lips on the bloodied underneath him, already opening again to throw some stupid comment at him.

He could taste Altaїr's blood – could taste how it was mingling with his in that messy kiss, while their mouths aimlessly tried to get hold of one another. He would've laughed otherwise, for there was this saying his brother once came up with: _If there is no other way, all that is left is mouth-to-mouth combat._

It was a desperate struggle for the upper hand, that Malik clearly would win. He was not gentle and so wasn’t Altaїr either; his teeth caught Altaїr's bottom lip and pierced the flesh, making him bleed – as if the young father wouldn’t have done this enough already, but the metallic taste only fueled his hunger and so it seemed for Altaїr too. Altaїr groaned into his mouth, as he was already pulling at Malik's suit. But Malik's mind was blank by now and he didn’t care for the door being wide open, for all he could think of was Altaїr, his body writhing under his and how eager the boy was to get him out of his clothes.

Malik could hear the seams of his dress-shirt groan and rip, but he ignored it, letting Altaїr go only for short instance and only to get him free from his shirt when he pulled it over his head. Altaїr didn’t complain – well, not too harshly at least. "This fucking tie…" He groaned impatiently before he yanked at the bloody thing to free Malik's neck only to bite down on the now naked and exposed skin. Oh, how annoying all those layers of clothing suddenly were, what an obstacle they meant for the two hotheaded men wanting only to devour each other. Malik didn’t mind the force Altaїr used to get his dress-shirt off Malik's shoulders or the unceremoniously way he tore at his leather belt.

They were naked within seconds after they finally got over those annoying first seconds and Malik, not far from the door anyway, kicked the living-room door shut without further or do, hovering above Altaїr like a predator. He looked beautiful, even with all the blood clinging to his face, his eyes half lidded and heavy with arousal, while Malik's mouth was exploring the gentle curve of Altaїr's neck, biting down near his collarbone and enjoying the flinch and gasp he could draw from Altaїr like that.

He had waited way too long for something like this for his liking – but then everything happened quite differently than he first expected. Altaїr was no little boy who would just lay under him and let himself get fucked – and Malik should’ve known better as it seemed. While Malik was exploring, Altaїr used this moment of inattention, as he wrapped his long legs tightly, almost body crushing around Malik's hips straddling them, before he threw Malik to the ground and rolled over him with the very same moment. Malik felt how the air was knocked out of his lungs this time, but couldn’t help but smirk. Was this still the very same Altaїr he admired from far away until now?

It seemed right as if Altaїr wanted to spend ages on worshipping the sculpture that was Malik's body, while his impatience was yet very obvious to the older man. He would have never expected Altaїr to spend his time descending down his body with wet and still bloody lips, while eager hands were tracing the arch of his pec and ribs on his way down to the solid ridge of his abdominal muscles. He was more muscular than Altaїr, broader than the dancer, but that didn’t mean Altaїr had anything to hide. For just one moment Malik thought that the guy probably didn’t even know how stunningly beautiful he was or how, ever so gracefully, his body was behaving when he moved. He didn’t know why Altaїr was doing what he did now – and maybe it would be better not to ponder about it – but he didn’t stop Altaїr either when he sunk to the floor between Malik's legs.

Malik could not help but reach down for Altaїr to pet his head softly, while the boy was pressing sloppy kisses to the silken flesh that was Malik's inner thigh. He was buying time and Malik could feel it. Perhaps he wanted to prove something to Malik – only that Malik would have none of this when he buried his fingers harshly in Altaїr's hair and ripped at his head to get him up again. Before Altaїr could even protest, he was under Malik once more, but the black haired man only grinned at the frustration visible on Altaїr's face, before he grabbed his jaw hard and bruising.

Altaїr furrowed his brows, his eyes lit up in anger, while he bared his teeth at him. They were still a bit pink from the blood running from his nose and mouth, but then he moaned in shock, when Malik brought his groin down, as he was resting against his body. He could feel Altaїr's already very hard cock digging into his stomach.

"Feisty, aren’t we?" Malik teased at this display of wanton desire. Altaїr's eyes were clouded with lust, even though the boy was probably not even aware of how he looked, his cheeks flushed, his skin sweaty already, when Malik closed his hand around their cocks to give them some few reassuring tugs, only to show Altaїr that there was no turning back now anymore. No cousins in danger getting him out of this, no catastrophes denying Malik his price. He had paid well for it, after all, hadn’t he? The thought disgusted him more than he would like to admit, but a part of him was still quite sure that this was why Altaїr was here and the reason why he was doing this. Altaїr moaned in sudden pleasure, rocking his hips slightly upwards to meet Malik, obviously no longer interested in winning a fight or proving that he was not gay – and it suited him just fine, after all, he was about to fuck his brains out now anyway. He had been denied his price long enough for now.

Malik's left hand was already slick with precum leaking from the boy (and probably himself too), when he moved his right hand gently over Altaїr's left thigh – yes, gently. Gently at first, before he scraped with his nails over the sensitive skin, leaving behind deep red streaks. Altaїr moaned louder. So, the boy did like it rough, didn’t he? Malik grabbed his leg fiercer and moved it up, laying it with skilled ease atop his own shoulder, only so he could bite down hard on the tender silken skin. Altaїr was gasping now, his breaths shallow and fast, sweat slowly dripping down his forehead.

There was nothing for him to use as lube, no matter how much he would turn to look around while at the plan b there had been plenty of possibilities. For this ruined opportunity alone, he should find those dickheads and rip them apart. But now Altaїr was _his_ – if only for tonight.

"Suck" He ordered Altaїr when he violently jerked down his fingers into Altaїr's mouth and shortly he was afraid the guy would bite them cleanly off – He didn’t. Instead, Malik had a hard time stifling his own moan, when he felt Altaїr's tongue eagerly moving around his finger, taking care to wet them as thoroughly as possible. He was not dumb, he probably knew what was coming and that he would only regret it if he would not do as Malik said.

When he took the fingers from him, Altaїr was huffing with a sting of impatience. The boy was an enigma to Malik – at least that he could say with confidence. But Malik was patient in his current state of arousal and lust, and Altaїr moaned even heavier, when Malik breached him with a slick finger, then two as if it was nothing, melting away the lingering tensions. When Malik shoved the third finger in, Altaїr's nails were grabbing for support at the floorboards, breathing hard and Malik – grinning – drove his tongue over the leg he still had at his mercy, while he continued working him up with skilled ease until Altaїr was a twitching and bucking mess underneath him, before he had even taken him.

Malik did his very best not to think about if Altaїr was still a virgin (on this field of action at least) or not when he grabbed the both of them again by the base of their shafts and started milking their cocks with a deft twist of his wrist. Malik slowed down the steady thrusts of his fingers, easing them completely inside and enjoying the tight heat around them and gently stroking over the swell of Altaїr's prostate. Altaїr's moans turned immediately into short gasps, shocked about the pleasure his body was able to feel, for he never experienced it before. Altaїr would lose it before he could even grasp the sensation and so Malik took the fingers from him with a soft chuckle.

He didn’t have a condom at hand (something that could never happen to Ezio), but Malik's shaft was already slick with precum, when he let go of Altaїr's leg and sunk deeper between his legs only to press his crotch up against Altaїr body and drew the swollen head of his of erection along the intriguing curve of Altaїr's ass until it caught on the now slippery puckered skin. He already knew it would be a tight fit, but now it was too late to stop anyway. He could no longer suppress the overwhelming urge to fuck him until he would beg for mercy, to dominate him and make him pay for all the trouble he caused Malik until now. "You ready?" He asked, his voice a dark and husky promise of the upcoming pain and pleasure he was adamant to deliver, but he only got a breathy whine in response and a wild and impatient buck as Altaїr grind forward and against his slicked cock, spreading his long legs wider, now that Malik was between them anyway.

"Just fucking do it and fuck me already!"

However, no matter his oh so very impatient and desperate words, Altaїr tensed a little as Malik's cock slid across his hole. Malik reached down to hold himself in place, before pushing against the unyielding tightness of Altaїr's body and Altaїr only gritted his teeth at the sudden pain when Malik entered him, finally claiming him as his. A gruff moan was ripping through Malik's body when he finally was deeply sheathed inside the dancer's body and stopped for a moment to give him time to adjust. Malik knew that it was quite a bit to take for Altaїr, but then the boy surprised him all the more, when he clasped his legs again around Malik's waist to get him closer, aimlessly searching for his mouth – if only to suppress and quiet his pleasured moans.

Altaїr's entire body was flushed because of the embarrassment he felt for enjoying this new sensation so much, but Malik would not give in Altaїr's demands of a kiss, instead, he only grinned wider, though he could hardly hold himself any longer, now that he was buried in the constricting warmth that was Altaїr's body. "You have one hell of a tight ass, boy."

Altaїr growled, but bucked his hips again, making even Malik flinch in surprise. "Fuck you!" But he was probably far too dazed already to see the wide grin on Malik's face now anymore. "Well, if you insist." He chuckled, before he grabbed Altaїr's hands once again over the boys head, enjoying having him at his mercy and his arms in a tight and rough grip, knowing that his own hands would leave bruises on the beautiful body. Perhaps it was good that Altaїr would not get naked in front of strangers from now on anymore.

Malik wanted to mark him in all the ways possible as his, so there would be no other men daring getting close to Altaїr ever again.

Altaїrs body was taut as a bowstring, while Malik rocked his hips forwards and fucked into the awaiting body. He wanted to make Altaїr forget all the nights he spent with Maria, wanted to erase that unworthy woman from his brains until he would never even remember her name again until Altaїr would only desire him, though a part of Malik already knew that this would be the last time they would see each other. A yelp of shock and pain was tearing from Altaїr's throat, but it did nothing to stop the almost brutal assault on his body. His eyes were rolling back and falling close as Malik sent waves of thickened pleasure flooding through his body, making him forget the sharp snaps of pain.

"Do not hold back." Malik growled biting down on Altaїr's beautiful throat now all the more bared at him, when the boy arched his spine upwards and he could feel his pulse going berserk, before Malik's thrusts crushed even harder into his body as if he owned it. Altaїr's deep and throaty moans were now even louder than the wet slaps Malik produced slamming down into the inexperienced body, but it seemed he had a hard time even forming coherent sentences any longer now.

Then he at least managed somewhat like a response, coming over his swollen lips. "Harder…" He demanded panting, his amber eyes finally locking with Malik's, almost driving him into insanity with their burning glow. " _Please_ fuck me harder!"

Oh, he loved how wanton he sounded – and he loved to know that he was the only one to hear him like this. He was, after all, wasn’t he? "You have no clue how long I wanted to do this." He growled when he slammed into him harder and simultaneously grabbing Altaїr's cock with his free hand again to stroke him in tune with his thrusts. "You have no clue how much I wanted to kill those bastards shoving their money at you as if you was just some dirty whore."

"Did I fucking stutter?! Stop fucking talking!" Altaїr almost yelled at him, slamming his head back in frustration for not being able to do much. Of course, Altaїr did surprise Malik before, but now it was Malik having the upper hand and Altaїr would not stand a chance against him. "Stop talking and fuck me harder already!"

He almost laughed breathlessly, before he grabbed him harder, stroking the aggression out of his body. Oh, he fucking loved this. Never in his life dared someone to treat Malik like Altaїr did, never in his life did anyone dare to speak to him like this. But now Malik only wanted to fuck this boldness out of him, feeling Altaїr clenching underneath him, aimlessly thrusting into Malik's eager hand. He wanted to urge him to slow down, but Malik himself did not want to slow down at all. And then finally Altaїr's whole body was spasming in the sudden jolt of relief, his toes curling behind Malik's back and his spine again arching upwards.

It was this sight and the clenching of Altaїr's body around him that made Malik's climax all the more intense when it hit him like a train. The sensation was insane, for all the time he needed to abstain from this. He didn’t remember if it had ever been this intense with Thomas back when he was still oh so young and inexperienced, but he doubted it. His body never felt so caught in a riptide, never felt like he could barely move as he spent himself, riding his orgasm out while thrusting into Altaїr and forcing his own body to keep moving.

Altaїr was lying underneath him, when Malik finally pulled out of him, watching his own cum lazily dripping out of the boy, who was lying there with his eyes closed, looking just like he had been fucked hard enough to not move his body past a few twitches. His neck, arms, and face were layered in red-purplish marks, looking wrecked and _owned_ , just as if Malik could keep him to himself from now on.

 

* * *

 

"I'm fucking rich…" Altaїr murmured lying boneless on his side, bedded softly on Malik's thick mattress. It was quite the miracle how Malik even managed to get him up the stairs without carrying him and now he felt like he was about to doze off. He never felt this way in his entire life. He had had sex before – obviously – but he never experienced this state he was in now. Malik was lying by his side, slowly humming some sort of response. He looked just like Altaїr felt, spent and exhausted. The way from the living room to the bedroom was a blur, but not their feverish kisses and touches or the rhythmically screeching of the bed.

"What do you mean?" Malik then murmured, when he rolled to his side to look at him, his hand softly grabbing for Altaїr's ear. There was a small cut over Altaїr's right ear and slightly bleeding too, but he had no clue how that happened. "Didn’t you want to give me back my money?" He then chuckled, but Altair punched his arm gently.

"I don’t need your money…" Altaїr groaned, but with a small smirk pulling on his lips. He did not even know why he suddenly felt so at ease. He had just been fucked by a guy … twice … maybe … maybe even thrice… He should not be that calm and at ease. "I am really fucking rich."

"Oh, please do feel free to start making sense, kid." Malik sighed and gently pinched the ear he had just gently tickled before.

"I inherited money … My Uncle Bill told me this morning that my grandma left me her fortune and her house in Boston. She ordered in her last will that I should get my heritage as I turn twenty-one, alas my Uncle Bill deemed me not ready. He then was obligated to take hold of it and manage it until he decided that I am ready and responsible enough. Guess my grandma knew that I would struggle without her by my side."

"What a wise old lady." Malik chuckled.

"Yeah, I think you would've gotten along just fine." Altaїr grinned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" And again he pinched Altaїr's poor injured ear.

"Nothing!" He yelped and kicked Malik against the shin. But it was true, his grandma would've liked Malik, he was sure of that.

"Alright, alright. So how much will you get?" Altaїr frowned a bit, but then he slowly wiggled closer.

"So now that I'm rich you suddenly find interest in me, hm?" He sighed before Malik wrapped his arm around his lean frame and pulled the blanket higher. "Idiot…" He grinned. "So then don’t tell me, if you're so afraid I could only start banging you for your money, like the gold-digger I am. But what a shame, I could've been your sugar baby."

"Aww what a shame, you would've been an excellent sugar-baby…" Altaїr grinned sheepishly, nuzzling yet a bit closer and closer. He was a cuddler, that was nothing new and Malik needed to start getting used to it – though … what was this now? "What now?" Altaїr sighed. "Now you’ve got for what you paid, right?"

Malik was silent for a moment, but he closed his arm a little bit tighter around Altaїr's shoulders. "I shouldn’t have done this." He murmured. "I shouldn’t have proposed it in the first place."

"Then why did you?"

"Because-" He stopped again and sighed deeply. "Because I- You see... When I learned about you and Kadar and about your little arrangement I was so fucking angry I didn’t know what I said and after I said it, I couldn’t take it back." That made sense – even for Altaїr in its own twisted and stupid way.

"I still don’t understand why you were so angry."

"Isn't that obvious you fucking idiot?" Of course, it was, that was the sole problem and Altaїr did not want to say it out loud because if he would it would make the whole thing somewhat _real_ (more real than banging some dude half a dozen times in just one night). If he would just keep on ignoring it, he could leave this house and never come back again, right? He wasn't working for Malik anymore and now, after he settled the score, there was no reason for him to ever meet Malik again, right? But as soon as Malik would say what he thought to feel for him, there was no going back, right? There was no simple leaving the house and never turning back. If they would part ways now, it was just a night of sex without regrets for them to leave behind, but if Malik would say what he wanted to say, then ... yes, what then?

Malik sighed in exasperation when he turned on his back again to ruffle through his hair. "I was jealous okay? I didn't want that my brother would get the chance to fuck you without any meaning. I thought you already had lived through enough shit with Maria and all the crap that happened with her. I did not want you to become my brother's toy only to get thrown away again. I thought you deserved better than this for all you did and for the way you are caring for your kids." It came out almost as one sentence when Malik spoke up again, his eyes fixed on the snow-white ceiling and a little bit of red tugging on his nose and ears. Not the cheeks, never the cheeks. "And then I thought that I wanted you to myself. I didn't want to share you with anyone."

"So what is that supposed to mean now?" Why was he even digging deeper?! What was fucking wrong with him?! Why encouraging Malik?! Well, perhaps because a part of him desperately wanted to. His brains were telling him no, but just as the old saying said _the heart does what it wants_. He felt silly even thinking this. Malik opened his mouth but closed it again. Well, they were hopeless, Altaїr guessed, but he found it extremely cute that Malik was just like him - not able to say what he oh so desperately wanted to say. "Why threw me out and firing me, when you are so jealous?"

Malik huffed in annoyance, only to turn his head on the pillow so he could look at him again. Altair on the other hand suddenly enjoyed studying the rise and fall of Malik's broad chest and his sun-kissed skin, not at all covered with the blanket. Well, at least he lost his _virginity_ to a fucking Adonis. He didn't really regret it - for now at least. No, regret would come later, he guessed. He could not start anything with Malik. He was a mobster and he would just stand in the way of his custody battle - then again ... hadn't he already lost the war?

"Because of the attack on Desmond, you idiot, wasn't that obvious? It was meant for you and not him! I do have an awful lot of enemies, Altaїr, and I did not want to indulge you into this madness. When the attack happened I just knew that it was them, because they already know that I-"

"That you _what_?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake! That I care for you, you fucking moron! Isn't that obvious?! The whole world can see it, only you are too stupid!" Altaїr could already feel his ears growing hot, though there probably was nothing to be ashamed of anymore after Malik had just seen him in all the different and kind of humiliating positions. Yet his heartbeat fastened once again, thump-thump-thumping hard against his ribcage as if it was to explode out of his chest. It was no _I love you_ , but this _I care for you_ was just as good for now. There were not all too many people _caring_ for him after all.

"So ... What are we going to do now?" Altaїr then forced himself to ask, though the question didn't want to come out at once really. He didn't want to hear the answer, really. Malik sighed deeply before he flung his arm around Altaїr again and dragged him close to his chest, so that Altaїr's head could rest against his shoulder. He still felt tired and his poor Uncle Bill surely was worried sick, while he was looking after the kids. Altaїr just told him he needed to take care of something, but he guessed that his uncle knew pretty well that this just meant that he wanted to talk to Malik one last time.

"I don't know." Malik stated simply before he closed his eyes and leaned his head against Altaїr's as best he could. It felt weird - but in a really nice way. Shortly Altaїr thought about Maria and the way she used to distance herself from him every time they had sex. He always got the feeling as if he would've forced her, just by the way, she would always look at him afterward and by the way she used to shy away from him. Altaїr was a cuddler and she had hated this with a passion, always complaining of how hot he would feel next to her and that she couldn't sleep when he was there. It hadn't been always like this, though ... not always been bad, right? "All I know is, that we cannot keep on going like this. It's too dangerous. I don't want you or your boys to get hurt, but those people, they want something from me that I don't want to give them and they _will_ go after you if you stay in my life."

"So ... they pressured you ... with me?" Altaїr carefully asked, not willing to open his eyes again or to let his anger take over. He was too tired to be angry and his ass hurt too much to have a great escape - plus he had no clue where his clothes were. "Since when did you know?"

"Not long." Malik sighed. "But long enough I guess. I gambled with your life Altaїr and when Desmond was attacked, I knew that I lost. Next time something far worse will happen and then they will not mistake Desmond for you again. Next time it _will_ be you. I cannot have this."


	20. the one with the broken nose

"Daddy?" Darim's voice was soft and just a tiny bit worried when he gently tugged at his dad's sleeve. Altaїr was sitting on the armchair, which he pulled as near as possible towards the big window in the living room, staring outside and watching the slowly falling snow. He did not even know how long he sat here now. "Are you alright, Daddy?" The four-year-old boy tugged again at his sleeve, but then Altaїr finally focused on his son and grabbed him only to pull him up onto his lap and taking him into his embrace, whether he liked It or not.

"Yes…" Altaїr murmured. "I'm good, Sweetie." He suppressed a soft sigh, but Darim - proofing once again what a clever little guy he was - pinched his father's nose out of the blue and made him flinch a bit. Altaїr could not help thinking of Malik right that instant and how Malik used to pinch him every now and again during this one night, every time Altaїr would behave cheekily. It was stupid.

"Daddy, lying is bad." He reminded his stupid father before Altaїr pulled the woolen blanket around himself and his son to cuddle with him right here and now. He knew that Darim loved this, these lazy moments with his dumb father, just enjoying themselves - only him and daddy. "You really miss Malik…" It was a statement, no question and like oh so often he was right.

"Maybe just a little bit…" He agreed and rested his head against Darim's.

"Tazim said Malik misses you too, you know?" The boy then gently moved on. "He doesn't understand why you aren't together anymore too…"

"We were never _together_ , Darim. We were no couple…" Altaїr snorted, though it sounded nice.

"But you love each other…" He felt how his whole head turned red, but then again there was no reason to feel ashamed in front of his beloved son, right?

"You see, Darim, sometimes love is not enough, honey." Was he silently agreeing to what his son just stated? _Love_ was such a big word. "You see, I really loved your mommy too, but it didn’t work out still."

"But that was because mommy didn’t love you anymore." And he said this with all the bluntness only a child his age could possess.

"How do you even know this, honey?" Altaїr was stunned, but Darim looked at him with big eyes, as if it was so very obvious. His son had this very own habit of touching his father's face since he was little (littler), grabbing him with both hands by the cheeks and coming real close to him if to ensure that his father was paying attention to him. Normally he said _I love you_ when he did this, but now he stared at him with his big blue eyes, his father's face in his hands as if he was holding the whole world (and perhaps Altaїr _was_ his sons' whole world - for his sons were _his_ whole world) and then gently shook his little head. "You are beyond hope, daddy."

"Maybe I am." Altaїr laughed, but Darim kept him where he was for the moment.

"But I still love you." The four-year-old boy then said adamant, before Altaїr could kiss his forehead and Darim went back to cuddling.

"It is an enigma to me, how in the world I deserve such a wise little boy." Altaїr snickered while he gently patted his son's soft tuft of hair. Darim hummed in approval, just as if his father finally understood all the wisdom of the world - but his son was probably wise enough to know he did not.

"So why aren't you together anymore?" Darim grilled him further and Altaїr let out a beaten sigh.

"You see, Darim, it is not easy like this. There are many bad people in Malik's life and it could be dangerous for us, you know? Other than this, I have told you about your mommy's claims, haven't I? It would be harder for me to keep you little gremlins if I would be with Malik."

"I don’t understand this. It's ridiculous." Darim frowned and again he drew a laugh from his father. "It is!" He agreed, but then he gently tickled his boys sided. "And now up you go! It's time for bed, Sweetie!" Darim moaned, but then he climbed back down to the ground and pouted a bit – but only for show, that was quite clear.

"But I demand a good night story." Darim then – well – demanded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He reminded him just a little bit on Malik acting like this – only way more adorable.

"As you wish." Altaїr snickered. "But first get ready for bed, alright?"  Darim nodded and then hurried his way towards the bathroom. It was weird how normal this all felt after just a few days. He did need to do an awful lot of explaining when he sneaked back into his apartment four days ago, stiff like a wooden plank, limping and a little bit deranged to say the least. His uncle had not been too pleased with him at all that very morning after he spent the whole night calling Altaїr's phone (which he simply turned off at some point) and waiting for him.

Afterward, he had felt like crap for worrying his uncle so much and a bit ashamed even that his uncle clearly knew why he had not been home the whole night. For Altaїr it had felt for the entirety of that day as if it was tattooed on his forehead that he just got owned by a fucking mobster. Of course, he too needed to explain to his son why he had been injured, but gladly his son knew him long enough to not really question him when he said he had fallen down the stairs.

For a moment, Altaїr just listened to Darim going on his business in the bathroom with the door open like always, before he grabbed his phone. There were no new messages (especially no messages from Malik) on his stupid phone and of course, he made the bloody thing personally responsible for this. But there were no messages of his cousin too and his uncle was working on his case for now – so no messages there either other than the occasional informative ones. Three days ago, they officially turned down Sibrand's little threat and somewhat declared war on Maria and Robert. He was quite surprised though that nothing happened since then.

He would have expected calls and letters and maybe even visits to his flat. If Sibrand got all those photos of him and Malik, he sure as hell knew where to find Altaїr now, right? But nothing.  Perhaps he even felt just a little bit disappointed by that. He once got a German colleague and he said the Germans had this saying of " _auf Krawall gebürstet sein"_ , which basically meant to be looking for a fight – and that was exactly how he felt now. He really was looking for a fight and that was not just because he did not hear of Malik since this night … Will not mainly… He did know what he was getting himself into after all, right?

It was the most responsible decision to distance himself from Malik afterward, but at least he knew that Malik was probably feeling the same way right now. Hell … What a madness. What a bloody insanity.

"Daddy! Help! I can't reach the sink!" Darim called from the bathroom and Altaїr hummed in response before he got up. "Coming!" He answered strolling towards the bathroom. Only for a second, he stopped to have a short glance into his bedroom. He should put that baseball bat away, which Shaun brought over a little while ago. He did not even really knew why the strange British man his cousin liked to sleep with brought over this nasty metal baseball bat in the first place, _but_ a part of him was positive it was because even Shaun was worrying for him and the little gremlins.

Darim was already in his cute new PJs (because, _yes_ Altaїr used his new fortune to buy new PJs for his beloved little monsters) all dressed up and fancy for going to bed. The only obstacle the four-year-old boy in his fox-pajama with the cute ears and the little tail needed to face was the too high sink after his stupid father put away his little ladder again. But now Altaїr got it and placed it in front of the sink so his son could properly brush his teeth. Altaїr sat down on the edge of the tub to watch his son. He did not know what to do with himself now anyway.

"Daaaaad go away!" Darim suddenly moaned, his cheeks flushed bright red and his little dinosaur toothbrush and toothpaste already in his hands. Altaїr could not help but blink in surprise as his son was merely kicking him out of the bathroom. "I can do this alone!" Darim added clearly embarrassed though Altaїr had no clue why that was.

"Alright, alright!" He laughed and jumped off the edge of the bathtub as if electrocuted by it. "I'll wait outside then, young gentleman." It was quite cute how Darim sometimes behaved, but a bit it was also stinging deep down in his soul how fast his baby boy was growing. Soon he would start elementary school and then he would leave for college. Well, perhaps not all that fast - but fast enough.

It was quiet inside the flat otherwise, when Altaїr stepped into the hallway again and had a small glance into the nursery. Sef was sound asleep in his little cot, snuggled in his superbaby sleeping bag and even the workers were quite reserved tonight - though of course they were still hammering and drilling through the nights. Perhaps he just got too used to it by now to notice anymore. Slowly, it seemed, oh so very slowly, that he was getting comfortable in this new environment. With a small huff of air, he leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door and closed his eyes, listening to his son in the bathroom. Perhaps he even had a chance against Maria, now that he would have that much money and even a house in Boston. Perhaps things would start to get better now. Perhaps he should just put away what had happened with Malik, save it as a good memory and move on? If he would move back to Boston, he would be able to arrange something like shared-custody with Maria, right? It would be the most responsible, the most logical thing to do.

A part of him really wanted to go back and to live in the old house again – then again, he did not. He did not want to go back. He wanted to move forward. Perhaps sometimes it was best to move a step back, instead of moving forward, but not now – not this time, not in this situation. Moving a step back now would be like giving up, giving in to the pressure all around him. He loved that his grandma had given him her house, this beautiful old house near the woods he had grown up in and he wanted his kids to grow up there too, but he wanted to make it on his own. And he would. He was adamant to make it on his own.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door and immediately Altaїr's mind began racing again. Was this Malik? Or Desmond maybe? It must have been someone who knew that Sef was sleeping, right? Well, he sure was lost, if his first thought was if it was Malik knocking on his door so _late_ in the day? It was almost eight PM and really just about time for Darim to get into bed, so Altaїr casually meandered towards his door to open it. In hindsight, he really should have looked through the peephole first. He barely even opened the door, barely even turned the doorknob, when he was shoved backward by the sheer force of the intruder bolting into his flat. Suddenly he felt very much reminded of the way he bolted into Malik's home before. Maybe this was somewhat the payoff, only that Altaїr got hit with the door hard across the face. Stumbling back, he felt dizzy immediately, but there was no time for him dwelling on the pain shooting through his head or on the sharp snapping sound of a bone being broken or his confusion because the next moment he needed to protect his head from another blow directed straight at his head.

He did not think (there was no time to think), he just reacted, when he grabbed the guy's fist only to get shoved back again. The man was of dark complexion, darker than he was at least and absolutely positively from the Middle East – but he was not a really good fighter. Of course, Altaїr was not either, but at least he was a lot quicker to adjust, as it seemed, and a lot quicker to move. Whoever that was, he did not expect to find resistance in him. Perhaps he did the most stupid thing ever possible when he was grabbed by his attacker and slammed his head into his as hard as he could. His aggressor moaned in sudden pain and stumbled back and that gave Altaїr enough time to grab him by the head, to push it down and slam his knee into his face. He did his very best to ignore his own pains when he started running. Darim was already standing in the hallway, his eyes wide in horror for the blood on his dad's face and the strange man coming after him, but Altaїr only shoved Darim back into the bathroom, slammed the door shut and bolted into his bedroom, the stranger right at his heels, when Altaїr's eyes fell on the baseball bat again.

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"So your nose is actually broken, huh?" Malik's voice was decidedly calm, though his heart was actually racing inside his chest, pounding hard against his ribcage.

"Yup." Already Altaїr was sounding a lot more nasal than he did before, while the blonde haired physician had his face in a tight grip to focus on tending to his injuries, grabbing the things Ezio gave him one at a time, sitting on the sofa next to the young father, as if it was the most normal thing to do.

"Dare I ask how that happened?" The call got him by surprise when Malik just entered his office at the _Plan B_ and for a few moments, Malik did not even want to answer Ezio's attack on his inner peace this evening. He did not want to talk to anyone at the moment to be quite frank, not even to his brother (especially not to his brother). He simply did not want to hear anything at all from anyone not about their enemies sending renewed threats, nor about Altaїr. He needed to cut ties with Altaїr completely, for Altaїr's safety and for his own sake. He just wanted to focus on his work, but now he was here, inside Altaїr's brand-new flat, standing a bit awkward in his hallway, gawping like an idiot into the living room.

Malik felt a little bit guilty that he did not manage to be quicker after Ezio called him and stated he needed him right here. Of course, he had known immediately that something was wrong with Altaїr, that he had been attacked or needed help or – _whatever_. One would not need to be a genius to figure that out, for Ezio might be a bit quirky from time to time and he might even stick his nose way too deep in other persons personal business, but Malik very much doubted that Ezio would ask him to come to Altaїr's flat only so he could force them to talk. Darim was at his dad's other side, clutching at his father for dear life. Of course, he did after all his father _was_ his life and his world and the most important person there was. Leonardo and Ezio, on the other hand, seemed relaxed, to say the least, and even Altaїr, though a lot paler than usually, seemed a bit calmer at the moment than he should be.

It was grotesque, to say the least.

Leonardo, the blonde haired Italian guy, was just about to cover Altaїr's seemingly broken nose with the bandages after he had taken care of the broken bone. His first tough was, that Altaїr should rather go to the hospital and Darim seemed to be of the very same opinion. "Daddy, you should go to the hospital!" The four-year-old boy muttered. "I can't have a dad with an ugly nose!"

"Oh, don’t worry, Figlio, you father will be just fine and I promise he will still look good." Leonardo chuckled and flashed Darim one of his brightest smiles, his blue eyes glistening with a sort of mischief and joy.

It was probably a good sign that Altaїr was still here and not in the hospital and Leonardo was one brilliant man, that, Malik knew for a fact after all those wounds Leonardo already treated for him or his brother. He was their go-to guy in case of emergency. Altaїr's face was still bloody (again) and a nasty wound on his forehead looked as if it needed stitches. Worry was flooding through Malik's system like an infection, while he tried to not look worried at all in the same instant, but his heart ached when he saw how devastated Darim was. "So?" Malik pressed on after Darim's little interruption almost made him forget his question.

"Well…" Altair began, shrugging his shoulders and easing back into the sofa cushions as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary. "I suppose the unwanted guest in my bedroom could answer you that question."

Malik paused for a moment, just taking all of this in, but then he nodded, turned and walked down the narrow hallway towards the new bedroom. Before he entered though he had a small glance into the nursery, where he could spot Sef lying fast asleep in his cot. The door of the bedroom was ajar, but when Malik opened it fully, the door collided with something lying on the ground. It was a foot, how he found out as soon as he forced the door open fully. There was a bloodied metal baseball bat lying in the middle of the hallway, which Malik simply ignored (though he slightly hoped that it was not Altaїr's blood sticking to the thing).

Well, gladly it was not, for the foot lying on Altaїr's bedroom floor belonged to a badly beaten Middle Eastern man, lying flat on his stomach, seemingly out of it. One thing Malik already learned was, that Altaїr could defend himself if necessary (his face would probably never forget that lesson) and it seemed as if Altaїr would be only more furious when his kids were in danger too. He should be glad Altaїr did not have a baseball bat with him when he came to Malik's house a few days ago because then they surely wouldn’t have ended up very much naked in Malik's bed.

Slowly Malik walked further into the room and kicked the stranger to see if he would move or moan or really show any signs of life. He did not, but Malik doubted that Altaїr just had beaten someone to death – doped on adrenaline or not. So, Malik crouched down next to the dark-skinned man and grabbed his bloody, bald head to lift his face from the ground only to grunt in frustration. The man was unshaven and dirty looking, not only by the state of his dark and smelly clothes but also by the shade of his face. Swami. Oh, he knew that guy and now he also knew who was responsible for the photos of Altaїr.

Swami was one of those little shitheads running around the streets, doing absolutely anything to get hooked. He was that sort of guy you would pay twenty bucks to murder someone and Swami would happily agree for he would use those twenty bucks to get his dope. He was not to be underestimated, though. He was a dangerous man and he worked mostly for a dangerous man. He was brutal and ruthless and he would do everything that needed to be done for fulfilling his tasks. Swami was still alive but clearly unconscious, he could feel his pulse slowly ticking away the time, when he pressed his fingers to his neck and when he let Swami's head fall back to the ground he shortly noticed his seemingly freshly disfigured left hand. There was one finger missing and the bandages around his hand told Malik that this only happened recently. It seemed as if Swami got involved with the wrong crowd this time.

Was he now working for someone different than before? Or did they (he and the guy he used to work with) forge an alliance with someone? Malik ripped the bandages from Swami's hand; just enough so he could have a decent look on his hand. The finger had been cut off cleanly. It was an almost surgical cut separating the finger from the joint it had been attached too and then cauterized neatly. Whatever it was, Swami was nowadays doing, he had been punished, that much was certain now. Cutting off someone's ring finger like this usually meant something in the underworld. It was a warning, the first step before the real pain would come. Thieves got their hands cut off, but whoever it was controlling Swami now, needed his hands still for the dirty work. Perhaps he should not kill the guy right away – not here anyway.

Instead, Malik moved back to Altaїr and the others in the living room, after he closed the bedroom door shut and put the baseball bat aside – just in case Swami would wake up and decide to go on a rampage. "Do you feel sick? You might have a concussion." He heard Leonardo say with his slightly melodic voice and his heavy Italian accent, but even before Altaїr could answer, Malik spoke up again. "I believe the blood on the door is yours."

"Yeah…" Altaїr moaned and then flinched sharply as Leonardo turned to clean up the wound on his forehead. "What a pity … the door was brand new. But no, I don’t feel sick." He tried to play it cool, but they all probably knew that he was not. Now that the adrenalin intoxicating his body surely started to ease off, Altaїr probably felt the shock of being attacked in his own home all the more. Darim surely did. He was completely and utterly hysterical seeing his father injured like this, being attacked in his own home, though the little one seemed to be well at least.

"I guess your men informed you about this situation, right?" Malik then turned to Ezio. He still did not really understand why the Italian man came here himself. He could as well have just sent Leonardo if he wanted Altaїr to get treated by a genius or he could have just let things happen on their own. But he was here. Odd.

"Si." Ezio sighed. "Caught me in a pretty pickle, to be honest, but Sofia took care of that and I decided I needed to take care of this situation myself, after all, I did hope I would have a chance to talk to our friend over there." _Over there_ clearly meant the guy in the bedroom. It was no secret that Ezio had several of his best men working inside this building, checking on Altaїr and the kids and the building itself, since it belonged to Ezio and Malik was all the more grateful for having Altaїr supervised like this here. Altaїr, on the other hand, seemed not all too pleased.

"Good. Say your guys they shall bring him to the interrogation room, alright? I want to speak to him myself; I bet he can give us a few more answers now." It was easier focusing on his role as a mafia boss. It was easier talking business, even in the eyes of a four-year-old scared child. It was easier like this, easier not to feel and not to look too much at Altaїr.

"Daddy…" Darim then hiccupped. "I don’t want to stay here."

It was only then that Altaїr met Malik's eyes again, carefully looking over at him with his bright amber eyes. Malik was doomed, he sure was. "I can drive you to the nearest hotel." Malik then offered. "Or to the hotel where Bill is staying."

Yes, that was the right way. It was, wasn’t it? He should bring Altaїr and his kids to a hotel or to Desmond's place or _wherever_ , but not to his own place again!

Just half an hour later Malik decided to keep his silence, as he watched how Altaїr tucked Darim into the freshly made bed after he just put down Sef into the cot Malik did not yet find the inner strength to put away again. "Well, that happened." Malik sighed more to himself after Altaїr made sure Darim was neatly tucked in and well with his teddy before he left the room. Of course, the poor idiot would worry about his kids before himself. He could be lying bleeding on the floor with all his organs hanging around outside his body like they were on a rave and he would still worry more if Darim would have a bloody nose. And fuck, he loved this about him.

"So, what has actually happened before?" Malik tried again if only to destroy the uncomfortable silence between them, as soon as they sat in relative privacy in his living room with Lucy somewhere rummaging in the house. He did not even have the slightest clue how It happened that they ended up here, but after Darim started to cry again and moaned that he didn’t want to go to a hotel, they somewhat just … got here. He was clearly a lost cause. He was mad (madly in love one might say).

"I don’t really know…" He really sounded a lot more nasal now that his nose was broken and it was quite funny to hear when he slumped down heavily into the sofa cushions and leaned his head back against the backrest. "He just … Well, he knocked."

"He knocked." Malik repeated and raised one of his brows, while he desperately fought the temptation to put an arm around Altaїr and to drag him close against his body. "And since he knocked oh so friendly and polite, you had to open, that makes sense I guess."

"Yes … I think it does, doesn’t it?" Altaїr snorted but immediately grabbed his nose in regret. Poor thing. "Anyway, he started to attack me as soon as I opened the door."

"Of course he did."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nevermind."

"Do not _nevermind_ me, Mal." Altaїr growled touching his nose again, that was oh so very well covered by those bandages now. Poor, poor thing. But he could not help his heart doing a little jump by the sound of Altaїr calling him _Mal_.

"Do you have any idea why that happened? Fuck, I hoped they would leave you alone now. Seems like I've made a mistake." Malik sighed, while he was staring down to the floorboards and again fought the urge of remembering the night they spent together on these very floorboards. It had been only the day after, that Malik began to feel concern, because of his staff running around the house. Lucy probably heard them, but she did not say a thing and Adé too did not say anything.

"You mean your _enemies_?" Altaїr sighed. "I don’t know about this. Maybe it was more like _my_ enemies."

"I doubt Maria would ever put out some killer or thug on you to hurt you." Swami would not work for someone like Maria and Maria surely would not know how to contact someone like Swami. She was new to New York and as it seemed she did not plan on staying.

"But I do think she did." Altaїr then said. "And I do think that it might have been Maria even who attacked Desmond before – or rather hired someone to do exactly this. They are threatening me, you know?"

"They do what?" Malik hissed and almost really grabbed Altaїr to face him, just so he would see if he was playing tricks on him or not. What if Altaїr was more aware of Malik's feelings for him than he should? What if he wanted to use this weakness of his to get rid of Maria? It would be easy, wouldn’t it?

"Bill and I met her lawyer the other day, Sibrand, he showed me pictures of … well … me … and you – you know. By the way, you could have mentioned at one point that we already kissed in your fucking car when I was drunk!" He blabbered, but Malik noticed how adamant Altaїr was to look towards the big window and outside into the night and not at all in his direction with his cheeks slightly flushed red by now. Oh, this poor, poor, poor thing. "He was threatening me with those pictures for the court would never grant custody to me if they would see them – but also he put together a document with some not all too subtle threats. One of them just was fulfilled tonight as it seems."

"Well, threatening you with pictures is a low shot I guess. Of course, the court will not be too excited having a presumably gay male stripper fighting for custody for his children. But every court and every judge in the world will see that you are indeed a good and devoted and loving father, while those kids' mother left them behind well aware that you could not provide for them all alone. Everything could've turned out way worse than it did after all." They could have frozen to death if they would not have found shelter with their relatives. They could have starved or even worse things. The world out there was no friendly place for a father with two little children. Especially New York was not. New York City was a broken, corrupt, dark and poisonous place to be. The people were like a disease spreading their ill-fitted sets everywhere, infecting poor souls like Altaїr.

"I think they thought I would be threatened easily like that and now that they learned that I am not such an easy target, they decided to attack me. I doubt he wanted money or anything of worth really. No one except me and Bill and you know that I've got money now." Altaїr pondered and then finally he looked at Malik and the mobster almost flinched. Ridiculous. He wanted to cut his ties with Altaїr, to get him as far away as possible so he would not be in any danger anymore, yet Altaїr was here again and even when he was not he had been in danger. It had been a terrible mistake to let him go, to kick him out.

"I think I know the guy from tonight." Malik then sighed and got up from the sofa again. "Come on, I've got a lot to tell you. Do you have the documents and the photos with you?" To Malik's surprise, Altaїr did have all the important stuff with him. He had shoved the binder into the diaper bag without Malik witnessing it and only minutes later, they sat in his office, the binder between them on Malik's desk.

He would like to say he was surprised to see the very same photos he received a while ago now in this very binder – but sadly he was not. Not after seeing Swami half dead in Altaїr's apartment or hearing that the name of Maria's lawyer was indeed Sibrand. It seemed now they finally were getting to the bottom of this pit of snakes.

"So what does this mean?" Altaїr sighed after Malik placed the photos _he_ received on the table too, while Malik was swiftly reading the threats Sibrand produced within the binder. They were well and cleverly written out in very graphic detail, but it was quite a risk, wasn’t it?

"I don’t know." Malik stated before he leaned back. "For once it means we do have the same enemy I guess. But I do not really know _why_ that is or _what_ they are trying to do really. With this binder, you could have gone to the police to bust Sibrand's ass, but I guess they speculated on you being too scared to try. Perhaps that was why you were attacked tonight, either to scare the living shit out of you so you will not go to the police with this or to underline their threats and get you to obey. Either way, it was a dumb move. But now having Swami in your flat I at least know who made those photos and I believe now we know who is behind all this."

He told Altaїr all about their enemies and about the one person that was still in the shadows, about the threats against Altaїr and the demands for weapons and money. He should not tell him all of this stuff. He should keep those things to himself. Malik knew that. This was _his_ business and not Altaїr's. Altaїr was just some random guy being dragged into all of this only because Malik could not tame his inner demons. Yet, it felt so very good to finally have someone, an outsider, to talk to. "It never made sense." Malik finally sighed.

"And it still doesn't." Altaїr answered. He would have expected him to get angry that Malik gambled with his life like this, but then again he already heard this truth and he was uncomfortably calm now. "So you think it is Robert de Sable being behind all this?" Altaїr then concluded.

"Well it could be Maria, but I doubt that this is the truth. No, Robert is the most logical candidate. Perhaps it never was his plan to get you involved like this or to threaten you like this, but after they learned about your affiliation with me then maybe he gave in into Maria's demands and started attacking you too?" Malik sighed deeply and brushed through his hair before he put his glasses aside and threw the documents into his bin. "Listen, Altaїr. I do not know what is going on, really. But I know it's gonna be bad and I don’t want you to be involved in all that."

"Then maybe you shouldn’t have told me all about it." Altaїr growled, but when Malik looked at him, Altaїr smirked. He really did. His face was smashed, his nose was broken and he had just beaten the crap out of a guy with a baseball bat and yet now he was smirking and not afraid at all.

 _Bonjour, bonjour Monsieur! We have a boner!_ His crotch chirped, but Malik cleared his throat and crossed his legs silencing his hyperactive libido. "I think it would be best if you would not go back to your flat. Of course, Ezio got some of his men working around the building, but they will not be quick enough to help you if it would come to this. Tonight you’ve got lucky, but it would be best if you would stay at Desmond's place.

"He won't talk to me." Altaїr sighed. "He hasn’t called me or anything since Halloween."

"Well, did you try to call him then?"

"No…" Altaїr murmured looking down on his feet before he slumped down in his chair, so much that he started to look like a towel hanging over the backrest. "And I do not plan on doing so." He stated. "I think it would be best not to call him or anything, at least not until all this is still in the mix. I do not want him to get hurt again. But I do have a plan."

"You do?"

"I do."

"So?"

"I'll stay right here until all that is resolved. Here we are kind of safe, I guess."

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Shaun almost dropped his book, when Desmond jumped out of their bed and grabbed his jeans. Normally he would never protest seeing the half-naked body of his boyfriend bending over to put pants on (well, he would protest that he put pants on), but now he just growled and glanced at the alarm clock. It was already half past eleven and Desmond was still on sick leave after his _accident_ just a few nights ago.

"Where the hell do you think you are going?" The Brit groaned, just when Desmond put on his dark gray hoodie and began his search for his socks.

"Malik's house." Desmond simply stated and Shaun – finally having enough – slammed shut his book and threw it at him. Maybe he was just a little bit disappointed that his boyfriend still had such good reflexes when Desmond ducked away from the attack and his book hit their closet to land miserably on the floor. "Why are you throwing your book at me?" Desmond's face was a beautiful mixture of disbelieving, shock and confusion.

"It was terribly written and the historical facts absurd." Shaun simply answered and shrugged his shoulders before he crossed his arms and started at Desmond over the rim of his glasses – a look which always left his students frozen in fear. "So why are you going to Malik's place exactly? Bill said Altaїr is living in his new flat, right?"

"Yes he is, but he was attacked tonight! Dad just wrote me a message, saying that Altaїr called him on his way to Malik. He was fucking attacked in his own fucking flat! I need to get to him and see if everything is alright!"

"So he did call Bill, ey?" Shaun kept his voice as dry as possible, so dry in fact, Desmond probably felt thirsty just by hearing it.

"I mean yeah?" Desmond groaned clearly confused by his boyfriend not holding him back, as he normally would do. There he stood now, clearly disheveled with one red sock in his hand.

"So he can still speak." Shaun continued, his arms crossed.

"Yes." Desmond nodded, the confusion on his face obvious by now.

"And he can still move his hands well enough to call your father."

"Yes."

"And now he is at Malik's place with the kids."

"Yes."

"So then he is alright I would say."

"But-"

"He is alright, I would say."

"But he's got a broken nose and a nasty wound to the head and-"

"But he was calling from Malik's car on the way to Malik's house and not to the hospital, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I would say you can get naked again and come to bed. And bring me my book I was not finished reading and criticizing it."

"But-"

"No, _Miles_. He does not need you now. If you so desire you can go to him tomorrow to see if everything's alright. Now he is with Malik and he is in good hands I suppose. You need to learn to let him do things on his own for Queen Mum's sake!" Shaun groaned. It was not like he would not be worried himself, because – fuck – he was. He was worried for Desmond after he had been just purposefully hit by a car and beaten! He was afraid to lose him, he was afraid to lose their life together as a couple because of all this. But, and that was also true, he was afraid for Altaїr's sake as well and for his kids' wellbeing. He knew Altaїr now for nine long years. He had seen him growing up from the age of thirteen onwards. Even if Shaun would never admit to it, even if he would always deny it if someone would dare to confront him with that: Altaїr was like a little brother not only for Desmond but for him too. However, he was a little brother, which needed to be pushed and challenged.

Finally, Shaun flung back Desmond's blanket with that very gesture saying he would not have any of his bullshit any longer.

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"So, _son_ , how much longer do you want to keep up this idiocy?" Haytham clearly made an effort of keeping up appearances by now. Otherwise, he would not stand so calm in the middle of what once was his living room but go on a rampage. Connor knew that and he did not give a single fuck.

"What idiocy, old man?" Connor was a friendly giant for the most time. He rarely cursed, he rarely got really loud and he almost never shouted at someone. He was a good kid still with his nineteen years, though Ezio and his own grandfather were quite the bad influence on him. Most of the time he got angry it was because his father did something to annoy the living shit out of him – which was almost everything his father said or did.

It had not always been like this. When Haytham took him in nine years ago they got along quite well, but everything changed as soon as Connor stated for the first time, that he did not desire to be a mobster.

"This, boy. I mean _this_!" His father suddenly exclaimed gesturing towards the colorful papers lying all around on the living room floor around his giant of a son. Connor sure looked misplaced in all that mess or rather like a puppy dog making a mess out of the kitchen and then trying to blame it on the cat. Connor on the other hand just kept going, gluing one of the papers to the cardboard. "How long are you planning on playing kindergarten teacher?"

"I am not playing kindergarten teacher, Sir. I _am_ a kindergarten teacher. And I am not planning on being anything else." Connor answered his voice calm and his face relaxed while he concentrated on his task ahead. He was making a small house out of a shoebox, because this would be his new project for the kids in his group, now that Halloween was over and he needed a good example on which the kids could orientate.

"Connor, stop this at once!" Haytham growled and Connor did not even need to look at his father standing in the middle of the giant ass room that was their _living room_ to see that he had his arms crossed and his face red with anger at his behavior.

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton, you should know this by now." Connor simply chirped and a small devilish part of him enjoyed angering his dad like this. He knew that his father knew his real name and he also very much knew that he would never be able to pronounce it right. Maybe that was because he was not even trying. Shay, his father's secretary, was very much able to use his real name and his grandfather was too. Only his father did not seem to make an effort even trying to learn it.

"Connor, we already talked about this. You must stop this nonsense. Your life is with us, with the family and not in some kindergarten. You are what you are-"

"Then what _am_ I?" Connor finally had enough and jumped up to face his father, the shoebox still in his hands with his half-finished version of their living room. He even got the draperies right and in the fireplace was even a little papery fire burning.

"You are a Kenway, so you better should behave like one."

"What else?!"

But before he could even grasp what his father was doing, he felt the shoebox being ripped from his hands and thrown into the fireplace. Were he but a kid, he would have burst into tears and try to get his masterpiece out of the flames, but since he was not, all he could do was watch his little shoebox house burn to ashes. For a moment he watched the little paper Connor crumble under the heat, smelled the burning glue, but then he only clenched his jaw.

"We have an appointment tomorrow, _Connor_. Ezio called to say that they have found someone very interesting to us. Perhaps we will finally get the information we need."

"You don’t need me there. I have work to do."

"You have not and you are right, we don’t need you there. Until you understand what your place is, we will not have you anywhere near important business. We cannot have a savage ruining our businesses like this. But do not worry about your _work_ , I already called your boss and quit for you. And since you love to take care of children so much, you will look after Tazim from now on." His father's light blue eyes were sharp like daggers and cold as ice when he looked at Connor and the _savage_ boy already tasted the bitter taste of copper burning on his tongue after he bit so hard on it, his teeth cut into the tissue.

Perhaps it was best that in this moment Shay appeared behind his father in the doorway like a shadow, shortly glancing at Connor and taking the whole situation in. "Mr. Kenway, we must go now." The black haired man said and his father turned to go with one last look at him. "Clean up this mess you’ve made and then go downstairs. Do not think I would not have noticed that you have not kept up with your training. Your trainer already complained about you. Don’t put our name to any more shame." With that, he turned and if Connor would have a knife, he would have pushed it into his father's back right then and there.


	21. a trap

The smell of copper was lingering in the air like the thick clouds of smog over Downtown New York in the early evening hours. Even during all of his years in this _business_ of his, he never learned how to get used to it. It was not like he was thrown off by the smell of blood or that he felt sick witnessing someone else bleed – not anymore that was – but he simply would like It better not to witness stuff like this happening around him. It was weird. It was absurd.

"Where is Connor?" Edward silently turned to his son Haytham. They were both standing in a good distance to the chair on which Swami was seated, his wrists and ankles bound to the wooden armrests and legs so that splinters could easily pinch his skin and torment him further. Haytham only raised one of his fine defined eyebrows at this question of his father but did not contort his face in any other way, simply showing off his brilliant and absolutely refined British way of behavior.

"He is with Malik's son." The dark-haired Brit answered, but his tone alone foretold that he was not at all happy with this – or with his son, to be more correct. If he would not already have a few gray hairs, he was sure his son would cause them to grow more sooner than later.

"He should be here." Edward groaned, though normally he would not care to insist on Connor witnessing something like this. Maybe in his grandfather's eyes, Connor was still a pouting petulant bratty ten-year-old child. "He could learn a few things. He _should_ learn these things."

"He is only nineteen. Leave him out of this for now. He will need to deal with these things soon enough." Kadar snorted, his face a horrible grimace of half hidden disgust and the failed trial to not be affected by the display of Swami, but when his brother flashed him one gloomy look he stopped and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. It was quite obvious that he hated to wear those clothes.

"And how old were you when you first dealt with stuff like this?" Edward turned to Kadar, but the young Syrian man kept his silence. _Too young_ , Malik, his big brother, thought. _Way too young._

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"So you wanted to meet me." He smelled her before he even saw her or before she even spoke up and Altaїr took his sweet time to look up to meet her eyes. She was still using the very same perfume she always used to spray on (except for the time they were living together because during that time Maria could not afford it). _Claire de la lune_. Oh, what a sweet fragrance, what a fitting smell.

It was freezing cold outside and the sharp wind was mercilessly biting his ears, though his brand new beanie should protect his poor-poor ears from the violent assault. He had waited for Maria at central park, though he never was here on his own (that meant without his cousin or Shaun) and he brought his new dark blue baby stroller with his very own _superbaby_ with him as back-up. No matter how cold it was now, his little boy needed a bit of fresh air and he needed to go on a walk with his daddy, whether he liked it or not.

At least it stopped snowing by now. Nonetheless, Sef was wrapped up warm and comfortably in his brand-new stroller and his sleeping bag. "The stroller looks nice, is it new?" Maria enquired before he even answered her.

"He was getting too heavy for me to carry him around all the time. First, he was not very pleased." Altaїr answered and gripped the handle of the stroller harder. He bit back what he wanted to say initially: _You know how he is_ , he wanted to say, only that Maria did not. Maria looked beautiful as ever like a freshly plucked peony in her dark blue woolen coat. She wore a silken scarf (and Altaїr really doubted that the thing warmed her neck as it should do for all the money it probably cost her … or her husband) and underneath her coat, he could make out that she wore black dress pants and high heels. Seeing her in a dress always was rare. She even got leather gloves and Altaїr again felt like a tramp with his very normal black cotton gloves, his very normal (but very new) black winter parker with the big ass hood and his very normal blue jeans. In comparison to her, he would always be a tramp, he guessed, no matter how expensive he would dress.

Not that it would really interest him anymore. He did not need Maria's approval anymore. Of course, he did not need Malik's approval either … though it was quite nice to notice when Malik would look at him a little while longer every now and again and he already caught himself a few times lingering longer in his presence than necessary. His independence had been short-lived after the attack of his in his brand-new home.

Now over a week had passed since that evening and, as Malik stated, Swami proofed to be a lot more stubborn than originally expected. Not even the drugs he seemed to need so desperately got him to confess. Malik had been furious, after Swami even told Malik that he was clean by now and of course, Malik suspected that Swami's _new boss_ took care of this. No one could use a weapon with such a bad habit.

"So, did you go with your boyfriend to buy this thing?" Maria dug deeper and gestured towards the path so they would start moving again.

"He is not my boyfriend." Altaїr clarified, but he felt incredibly calm this time. The first time Maria had insinuated that he was gay he had been quite upset (at least afterward), but now he felt weirdly at ease. Perhaps that was because he finally found his own inner peace with the situation. He was able to see things clearer now, to focus on what was important.

"But you live with him, don’t you?" Maria inquired. Hell, she would have been excellent during the Spanish inquisition he guessed. In Maria's understanding of justice and righteousness, he would probably burn at the stake for having slept with Malik.

"Yes, in fact, I do live with him for now." Altaїr nodded while they slowly walked down the pebble stone path. A few joggers were around by this time of the day, despite the burning cold air of this mid-November day. It was already afternoon by now and Connor would pick up the children later to get them home. Malik was _busy_ at the Auditore mansion and he did not know how long it would take him with Maria here in the park. It was a shame that Connor wasn’t working in the kindergarten anymore and the kids were terribly upset because of it. So much in fact, that Altaїr was already considering to take Darim out of the kindergarten and let him stay at home with Connor. His boy hated his new teacher and Tazim did too (Tazim liked to agree with Darim a lot lately).

He was not even afraid that something could happen to him by now. Of course, he still got a few threats, but he was not alone, Malik made sure of it – though Malik did not know that Altaїr knew. It was not as if Liam was oh so very discreet with following him around, shivering from the cold and perhaps silently cursing. The man was walking a few feet behind them, so far behind them that he could be mistaken for a normal rambler, walking his merry way through Central Park, but close enough to keep an eye on him and Sef. By now, Altaїr knew of course about the real profession of Adéwalé, Lucy, and Liam in Malik's house and he felt a lot safer knowing that Liam was in fact around (and a bit flattered that Malik told him to keep an eye out for him and to protect him and his kids).

"So-" Maria started but was interrupted immediately by her ex-boyfriend.

"I live with him since I was attacked by some thug in my new flat." He continued with an impatient huff of air and shortly flashed Maria one sharp glance, a glance that was, in fact, sharp enough so she would understand that he already knew that this attacker of his had not been the usual scum.

Maria cleared her throat but kept her poker face when she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. It did not seem as if she was really interested in their baby son, at least she did not make a move to really have a look at Sef in his baby stroller. "Do you know what he wanted?"

"No." Altaїr stated. "The police are investigating this now. They said he was looking for money to buy drugs. Apparently, he is already very well known by the local police." Of course, this was a lie, but Maria did seem to buy it judging by her look. He wondered if this was worry he saw in her eyes. Concern? Fear? It was hard to tell.

"Oh good, good." Maria smiled. "That was surely a shock for the boys, right? Is this where you got the broken nose?"

"It was actually." Altaїr sighed but he gave his best not to let his emotions slip again. Now that he knew what Maria was all about, he found it a lot easier to try to dance this tango with her. He needed to get a bit of information out of her, that was the only real reason why he asked her to meet. Well, that and because they had two children together, though Altaїr would rather forget this fact. "And yes that’s where I got my broken nose. But don’t you worry, my nose will be awesome as fuck again as soon as these bandages are off."

"You should not curse so much in front of the children." Yes, belittling him had always been her favorite activity.

"Do you really think Sef's first word will be ' _fuck'_ if I won't stop?" Altaїr snickered and had a short glance at his boy. Sef seemed to be quite happy at the moment. He was safe and warm and he had a new plush he was playing with. Malik bought this bloody thing after he apparently saw it on their shopping tour. It was a squirrel and it somewhat fitted his baby son, he guessed (at least that was what Malik said).

"Well, you never know." Maria answered with a smirk.

"His first word will not be _Mommy_ that’s for sure at least."

"You do know that you do hurt me when you say stuff like this, right?"

"Actually I don’t, Maria." He answered bluntly but brushed with his fingers over Sef's little red cheek. His boy ignored him, still too focused on his new toy; after all, his dad was nothing new anymore, right? "There was not much evidence in the past ten months that you do in fact have motherly feelings for those gremlins, at least not for Sef."

"I love them just as much as you do, Altaїr. It's not fair that you insult me like that. If you asked me to come just so you could fight with me again, I think I would be better off going now." Maria growled and did her very best to appear hurt. That was what she always did best: playing the victim. Altaїr always was the bad one in their relationship and that seemingly was something that would never change.

Altaїr snorted, but then he focused again. "I did not." He just said. "I asked you to come with me on a walk because I wanted to discuss the situation at hand."

"Well, you did turn down my lawyers offer, right?"

"You mean his threats to destroy my life?" He asked, a small snarl tugging on his lips. "Yeah, let's call it an _offer_ and yes, I guess I turned it down. I don’t know, but I really didn’t like the tone of the documents he delivered. Unlike you, I don’t have a problem with involving the court system, but unlike you, I don’t surround myself with people like Sibrand who is not even a certificated lawyer. You do of course know that I could've shown the documents to the police, right? It was a quite risky move and one I would not have expected from an intelligent woman like you surely are."

Oh, Maria's face was priceless! She did her very best to look as affronted as anyone in her situation could possibly be. "I don’t know what you are talking about, Altaїr. I never spoke to Sibrand! My husband took care of this. All he wanted to do was to ensure that I can get my kids back."

"No matter what."

"No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean – I…"

"Anyway. I'm not here to discuss this. I'm here because I wanted to talk to you about the kids. Darim does not want to live with you and Sef doesn't even know you." He stated dryly, still walking on and his eyes focused on the path ahead.

"Did you ask Darim that?"

"Of course I did."

"Of course he would say something like this! He doesn’t want to hurt his father! He would say differently if some professional would ask him!" Maria was adamant, but her tone and the slight tremor of her voice clearly told him that she was not all that sure about this.

"Such as Robert? Or Sibrand? No, I do not think so. Darim doesn't want to live with you and Robert in Boston, he wants to stay with me, but we could arrange something if you would play along and drop your attitude."

"How in the world do you think this would work? You live in New York and I live in Boston!"

"You could move to New York of course." Altaїr considered as a matter of fact, because she could if she desired to be with her kids. Altaїr clearly would go to the end of the world if that meant he was with his children.

"You could move to Boston of course."

"I will not."

"Don’t you have a house there?"

"Well, I do in fact. Sadly you missed your chance and now that I am rich too you can't have me anymore." She snorted again, but Maria did not seem to get the joke, or at least she did not want to be a part of it.

"I don’t want you anyway."

"Yeah, I know, you never did." Altaїr then grinned sheepishly, though it still hurt to admit to this. It was the truth and they both knew this, so why pretend to not know? At least she had the decency to look a little bit ashamed; her cheeks flushed a bit redder than before (clearly not because of the cold) and her eyes looking everywhere but at him.

"Don’t say stuff like this." Maria growled. "It's not true. I did want you, I just-"

"You just did not love me the way I loved you." He clarified and shortly looked at her. He was met with clearly and honestly surprised blue eyes, but when he looked away again he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Maria softly smiled at him. He would never understand this woman, but by now, he did not want to anyway. Since he moved back in with Malik he felt as if he was somewhat free of her annoying presence inside his mind. "It's okay. No, I guess it's not. It _was_ not okay. It would've been nice, though if you would've told me earlier and not just left without a word."

"I've made a mistake." Maria finally admitted and lowered her gaze again, but still, Altaїr really questioned her sincerity. "I am deeply sorry for the way I left you guys. I shouldn’t have done it like that."

"You should've just told me that you wanted to break up with me and that you are dating Robert again."

"I didn’t want to hurt you." She finally said and Altaїr stopped, snorting. He was not angry, though. Odd. Was he finally getting over the way she dumped him? Well, perhaps not that, but he was slowly getting over the fact _that_ she dumped him it seemed. Maybe that was because his heart nowadays made summersaults when he saw Malik. Stupid thing.

"Well, it didn’t work then. You did hurt me quite a lot. More importantly, you hurt Darim. I'm honest with you now. It was not easy for us after you left. Darim had a hard time to get over this, he did not understand why you left and why you didn’t even say goodbye. You did not just leave me, you left him too, you know? It would have still hurt if you told me earlier, but at least then I would have known and could have worked with this truth."

"Can I see him?" Maria sighed and walked on again. Altaїr followed, though he shortly glanced over his shoulder to where Liam was. The guy was awkwardly looking at his phone as Altaїr turned his head to look at him. "I mean I miss him, I would really like to see my little monkey again."

"I don’t know Maria."

"Altaїr, don’t be like that-"

"No, you don’t understand, Maria." He interrupted her maybe a bit too sharp. "Well, you see, I don’t know how he will react if I was to ask him if he wants to see you. I don’t think he wants to, to be honest. It is not as if he would hate you, he doesn’t. He loves you still very much – I mean, of course, he does, you are his mother after all – but I don’t think he would be very happy to see you right now."

"But he does know that I'm in the city and that I-"

"That you try to take them away from me? Yes, he does know this." Again, his voice was a bit sharper, but he found a little joy in the way Maria flinched. "I told him and he was confused, to say the least. I guess he still is. Maybe, if you give him a bit more time, he will get used to the thought that you are back and maybe then he would even agree to meet you, but as long as he don’t want to talk about this situation or you at all, I don’t think it would be a good idea to force him to. You know Darim!" He then huffed. "He is quite a stubborn one!"

"Just like his father."

"Don’t try to sweet-talk me, that won't work." Altaїr chuckled.

"Well, it's true! He is exactly like you! He behaves like you, he talks like you and he even sleeps like you!"

"Mostly he sleeps with his foot in my face, so I doubt that, for I cannot recall that I would have slept with my foot in your face at any point in our relationship."

"That is because I always prevented it." Maria laughed and a part of him wanted to join her, but to his surprise, his brain kept working. Well, that was new in Maria's presence. Normally he lost all his control when he was with her, right? What was it with all his self-control lately? Was this really Malik's good influence on him? Or was he slowly becoming an adult? "But I bet your new boyfriend can tell you all about this. Does Darim know you are dating a guy?"

"I don’t date a guy and he is not my boyfriend."

"He is not your boss anymore either, right?"

"No, he is not, I stopped working for him a little while ago. Now that I've got my heritage from my grandmother I can look for a decent job without needing to work at night and thus can take care of the gremlins myself." He made sure that he sounded a lot more like an adult than he actually was – maybe to confuse his ex-girlfriend a little bit more than she already was.

"So then what is he to you? You see, I saw the photo when you guys kissed in his car and-"

"Too bad your spy did not continue to make photos after that kiss – or if he did, it’s a pity he didn’t show you because right after that kiss I apparently threw up all over the place. I was so drunk during that scene that I don’t even remember how I got there." Altaїr explained swiftly, though it was probably not the best idea to admit that he got wasted like this while his two children had been waiting for him (somewhat), but it was better than admitting to being gay. He was not gay! Well, not exactly. Of course, he did bang a guy, but what did that mean anyway? He found no interest in other men – with exception of fucking Malik Al-Sayf! Then again, what would be so bad about admitting to it? "Anyway, I'm not gay and Malik is not my boyfriend. He is my friend, someone to rely on when things go south."

"You sure you're not gay?" She snickered.

"I'm not." No, gay he was not. Not even bisexual. Maybe he was _Malik-sexual_. Yes, that sounded right in the wrongest way he could ever imagine.

"Because I can imagine it would be confusing to Darim if you was." Maria did her best to look and sound at least a little bit concerned, but they both probably knew that she was not concerned about Darim's psyche and about Darim's state of confusion if his father was, in fact, gay.

"I don’t think so." Altaїr sighed. "If I was gay and if I was to tell him about it, I think he would understand it just fine. Darim is a lot more intelligent and understanding than most children his age." Finally, he stopped. It was getting too cold and Sef needed to get into the warm embrace of Liam's car, while his follower did his very best to look like he was not following him at all. "So let's talk business here."

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"Of course, I can cut off your other arm too, but you can talk and tell me what I want to know either." By now, the smell was nearly unbearable, even for Malik, but he simply sat down on the wooden stool in front of the tied up man. One week had passed since they brought Swami here and he had not spoken since. At least he did not answer any of their questions. He was way more resistant than Malik originally expected. Well, but he was one arm shorter now.

It was not as if he enjoyed inflicting pain on this man. He hated this. He hated torturing people or watching people getting tortured. This was the one thing separating them from the other Mafia families in the US, but sometimes there was no other way. His father once made him learn this lesson. Malik already dreaded the day he needed to teach his son this lesson too.

Swami was a good sport, that was for sure. He snorted only to answer Malik's question. "Even if you would cut off my legs too, I would not say a thing."

"That’s very dumb." Malik sighed, just when Ezio entered the room, his face stony by the display he was introduced to, but not thrown off at all by it.

"It's not necessary either." The Italian stated dryly as he turned to Malik. He stayed at the door as if he would not trust himself if he would walk closer to Swami. Ezio was that kind of person who would always show mercy to someone _once_ , but never twice and Swami already got his chance with Ezio before. "We've caught Abbas."

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Connor did not like walking to the kindergarten. He liked the walking part, of course, but not so much the part where he was arriving at his former job. It was quite humiliating to him and he was sure by now that his father intended exactly that for him as a punishment and since even Altaїr and Malik were aware of that, they normally tried to prevent it from happening. Today he had no other choice than to get the kids himself though after all he was now their new nanny, right? Lucy always tried to cheer him up that he was more than their nanny but their guardian too. He would protect them kids in this dire situation they were in right now. However, that was only a small comfort for Connor. He enjoyed the time he could spend with the kids, but he would love to go back to his job.

He hated this. He hated being so restricted by his own family. He wanted nothing more than the liberty to do whatever he pleased to do. His grandfather understood this desire, his father on the other hand... Well, he probably understood it too, only that he was focused less on freedom and more on order and responsibilities. His father was the one holding his own chains and with them, he was holding Connor's chains too. And for all Connor knew about his father, the man enjoyed this feeling of power over his son quite a lot.

His father liked control more than any other thing in the world. Connor never asked, but he was sure that this passion for having control was one of the reasons if not the main reason why his father left his mother before Connor was even born. His mother had been so full of life and joy, she had been so wild and raw with emotion – something his father would never understand. Well, at least she had been like this before she got sick.

The air was biting his skin so cold was it and the first shops already got their Christmas decorations out, when Connor walked past them. Of course, some people were always looking at him with puzzled expressions, but he could not be bothered by their looks. He was used to it by now. He was the big frightening native guy at least for the people looking at him and Connor did not care too much. _Let the people think what they want, they don’t do it very often anyway_ , his grandfather always told him.

Hell, a part of him now felt like he should be glad for not being involved in the family business when he turned the corner and saw the kindergarten. His grandpa said Swami would not talk and Connor knew what that normally meant. He was no fan of witnessing torture and he was no fan of inflicting pain on others too – though of course, he was no little flower that would get sick seeing stuff like this. It was his life and it would be his business one day.

Now he only had the duty of getting the kids home safely. He could already see a few mothers walking towards the door of the kindergarten to get their kids or already leaving with blabbering daughters or jumping sons. Connor paused for a moment and waited. He would rather not need to talk to those women. Then he guessed he could not escape this forever, right?

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Abbas's face was a lot paler than it should be for a man of his heritage. Malik knew him for a long time now, since he first opened the _Plan B_ to be more precise, and he knew quite a bit about him. Abbas came to the US with his mother when he was a teenager after his father apparently killed himself (though Abbas still denied this as a truth). Rumor had it, that Abbas's father had been responsible for the death of a young single father around twenty years ago in Syria and since then was stricken by grief and his bad conscience until he killed himself. His father's death had seemingly driven Abbas to become quite the asshole himself. For all Malik knew, his criminal career had started in his adolescence and was since then slowly evolving, even though he would never be a star in their little community of scum.

He tried, though.

Abbas had already collected a crap load of crimes under his belt, such as burglary, rape, various hit and run crimes, when he had been drunk driving again, forgery, assault and probably even murder or at least manslaughter – though Malik had never seen proof of the last one. Abbas was one of those poor, poor souls who always tried to get to play with the big boys, such as Malik himself. Since he opened the _Plan B_ and got to know Abbas, Abbas tried to get involved with him and his _family_. He wanted to kick him out of his club of course and order him to stay away from the _Plan B_ (and his various other establishments), but then again he knew it was forlorn hope to even try something like this and he was no better himself (though he never raped someone).

The last time Abbas put his fingers where they did not belong and touched something that (now) belonged to Malik, Connor had taken care of this and probably beat the crap out of him. Malik would love to punch him again or rip off his fucking dick, only because he dared to touch and molest Altaїr back then. Hell … and there was his younger brother thinking Malik's obsession would ebb off as soon as he would have banged Altaїr – instead his _obsession_ seemed only to get worse.

"So, Abbas." Malik began slowly, casually sitting down on the wooden chair right in front of him, as he did with Swami. He knew his presence could be intimidating if he wanted it to be. Most people tried to avoid him anyway and suddenly Abbas made a face as if he wanted to avoid Malik too oh so desperately. Unlike Swami Abbas was not tied to his chair, but he seemed a lot more frightened than Swami too. Not even when Edward fed Swami's left arm to his dogs, the man showed any signs of real fear or panic. Abbas, though … He already looked like he was ready to piss his pants as soon as Malik would raise his voice a tiny bit and the burning white light of the room and the cell-like interior did not seem to make it any better. "I believe you met Swami, right?"

Oh, of course, Ezio made sure Abbas would see what had happened to his fellow criminal and now he even turned paler. "Y-Yes." Abbas nodded. Oh, what a whim! Malik could not believe that someone like Abbas was trying to work against them! He could not believe that someone like Robert de Sable would recruit someone like this loser! He worked with people like Majd Addin for crying out loud! He was working with one of the most feared and most brutal criminals in New York City and yet he chose Abbas and Swami to take care of his dirty work! It did not make sense!

Fuck, by Allah, the whole damn situation did not make sense. Either Robert de Sable was an evil mastermind or he was dumb as fuck, and Malik thought it would be best not to speculate on Robert's stupidity. No, it was not wise to underestimate ones enemies. "Well, fine then. I believe since you already saw your pal and what awaits you when I do not get the answers I want, you are eager to tell me absolutely everything, right? Sure you want to tell me every little detail, right?"

Again a nod and Malik's respect, if there ever was such thing, for Abbas died away more and more. There was no word to describe how abject this guy was. He was not worth the dirt Malik had under his shoes and a tiny part of him felt thrilled to finally get rid of him, if only because Abbas had had the audacity to stalk and photograph Altaїr like he had. "Y-Yes." Abbas then stammered, surely because he wanted to keep both his arms.

"Okay then!" Malik clapped his hands in an almost cheerful manner as he leaned back in his chair a little bit more, only to make Abbas flinch violently by the sound. "Then tell me for whom you are working for a start."

"I-I-I I cannot!" Abbas stammered his face by now white as death in panic, his eyes bulging out of his ridiculous head. "I cannot. He will gut me."

" _I_ will gut you if you don’t tell me what I want to hear. If you don’t believe me, we can, of course, ask Swami again, though I think he has not much to tell without his tongue. Edwards's dogs seemed to have found a liking of Swami." He wanted to say it was hard to behave like this and that he felt horrible for it, but truth was that it was not hard and that he did not feel horrible for it. It was easy. It was in his blood. "So how about this: We play a little game. Just the two of us. Doesn’t that sound neat?"

"Y-Yes." Abbas stammered again and Malik began to find joy in hearing him stammer like this.

"You don’t even know what this game is!" Malik insinuated amused, though it was not really like he would find fun in this little game. Not in a good way at least.

"W-What is it?"

"I ask you questions and you answer. You can either choose to tell me the truth or a lie. But of course, there are rules to every game."

"Of course."

"Now ask me about the rules, you idiot." Malik sighed, rolling his eyes.

"O-Of course, the rules! What are the rules?"

"Oh, that’s easy, dear friend. You choose to tell me the truth or a lie and I have to decide whether to believe you or not. But for every lie, I'll cut off one of your body parts and I won't tell you which before I do."

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Connor did not like the feeling following him from the moment he picked up the children from kindergarten until the moment he opened the front door of Malik's house. He did not even know when this current state of purgatory his father set up for him would end and when he would be allowed to come home again, but for now, he was happy with staying as far away as possible from the Kenway-mansion anyway (though he missed Shay a little bit). The less he would see his father the better and Malik's house was a friendly and comfortable place. He liked being around those kids and being trusted with their well-being so much that he was even allowed staying at the house. Of course, he knew it was because it was easier like this. He would be there when Lucy was going home because of course, she could not always be there. She was not really a nanny after all! Just like Adéwalé was not really a cook and like Liam was not really a gardener.

He was being used, but it was okay with him being used like this.

Connor knew that his father frowned over the use Malik put those talented assassins too, but it was Malik's right to do so after all those three were his subordinates and not Haytham's or even Ezio's - and up until now none of the three ever complained about their tasks in Malik's household. Lucy even silently enjoyed taking care of little Tazim, how she once secretively told him, since the incident with this other nanny a while ago.

It was quiet when they stepped into the house, way too quiet for Connor's liking. Normally one would always hear someone inside the home, either Adéwalé rummaging in the kitchen or Lucy humming upstairs doing whatever or the maid doing the laundry, but not now. Now it was quiet like a graveyard, but before Connor could turn to the kids to say they would leave again, the kids were already gone, stomping up the stairs like a horde of elephants to go and play with Tazim's toys. For a moment, Connor decided he was just imagining things, that he was just too paranoid for his own good at the moment, though the feeling that something was off would not leave him.

Slowly he crept through the house, maybe in search for Adé or Lucy, though he did not even know if they were inside the house by now. They should be here, right? Lucy had been there when he left, but Adé left shortly before Connor went getting the kids to shop for groceries. There was no sign of Lucy, however. Over his head, the kids were stomping through the first floor and hearing them laugh and squeal at least put his mind a little bit at ease. Perhaps he was just over sensitive at the moment after what had happened with his so called father or a little while ago with Desmond and Altaїr. They were in the midst of a very dangerous situation, at least that he did know, but-

" **NO!** " Connor froze in place and nearly dropped his keys he just wanted to put aside again when the scream thundered through the house. " **LET GO!** " Connor did not think, his brain went blank and later he would know how stupid it was, how risky it was what he was about to do. He ran towards the staircase, bolting upstairs with loud and heavy footsteps and was up there within seconds. " ** _CONNOR!_** "It was unmistakably Darim's voice sounding from the nursery and a thousand possibilities what had occurred shot through his mind. Malik would kill him if something would happen to his son, but when he burst through the wide open door of the nursery the world around him went blank immediately.

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Malik was getting so tired of all the blood oozing from Abbas's wounds. The game was no fun at all, but of course, it had been intended like this. He was not here to have fun. He was here to get answers and up until now, he had not gotten what he wanted from Abbas. It was a shame, really. Mostly for Abbas and his disfigured hands. Malik always considered himself to be a somewhat decent person at least and a tiny part of him was worried about how easy it was for him to cut off someone's fingers one by one without thinking twice. His father would be proud of him.

"So." Malik began quietly with a sigh, shortly glancing at the clock. By now, Connor should be home with his son again – and with Darim of course – and he was wondering if Altaїr too had come home again. _Home_ \- What a weird thought, considering his house Altaїr's _home_! There, of course, was no way of denying that he liked having Altaїr around. He liked his presence around his house, liked hearing him roam around, liked to hear him play with their children. Suddenly there was life inside his normally oh so empty, oh so silent house. Suddenly his house became a _home_. Though in reality, he should stay focused on his task. "I think we agree that this was a lie too, right?"

Abbas moaned in pain when Malik grabbed his hand again to look at his work. By now, Abbas lost four fingers of his right hand and two of his left one. Perhaps he should just cut the right one off entirely since he would not be able to use his hand anymore anyway. What a shame. "I guess from now on you need to use your left hand to fap."  Not even in his mind that was funny, though Ezio of all people snorted about this joke. "And now that we established that you are a dirty, dirty liar who should better keep his hands to himself and stop molesting other people, we should talk about the real stuff."

Abbas's head hung low by now, his eyes staring emptily at his disfigured hands, his face pale of blood loss. He would not look up to meet Malik's gaze and his eyes seemingly lost all his previous resistance and fire by now. Abbas was not usually one hell of a fighter or strong spirited person. He was a coward, searching for the presence of mightier people than he was, surrounding himself with little minions weaker than even he himself was of mind and spirit, just like Swami, totally ignoring the fact that he himself was only a tool. "Tell me, Abbas, my dear friend, who is it you are working for? Is it Robert de Sable? Just nod or shook your head and I decide whether I cut off your dick and shove it into you filthy mouth or not."

Suddenly there was an empty smile tugging at the corners of Abbas bloodied mouth. Since Ezio pulled out a few of Abbas's teeth the man's speech was kinda slurred, but it was alright Malik guessed. "You think you're so wise, Malik Al-Sayf." Abbas finally began, his voice subtly hinting of amusement, he held back until now and when his eyes finally shot up to meet Malik's, a part of him froze. "But while I sit here and am questioned by you, Robert already got what he wanted in the first place and you are so full of yourself that you don’t even understand the trap you’ve stepped in."


	22. pawn

Miss Stillman was one of their best skilled and trained female assassins. She always was a leading force in the training of novices and was well known in the underworld as a reliable person. She took every new task she was entrusted with very serious, was it babysitting a mobster's child or assassinating a Politician who refused to take their money. Never, in her now quite long career within the mob, she failed them.

They found Lucy Stillman lying in the basement in a pool of her own blood, though her entire appearance made it very clear that she at least put on a good fight before she was taken down by multiple stabs of a rather large hunting knife.

Haytham Kenway had never considered himself to be an overly emotional man, nor could anyone maintain the opinion that he was a man of little self-control. In fact, he prided himself on his ability to approach even the most unexpected of circumstances with stoicism, dignity and a firm command of himself and his surroundings.

Yet here he was standing with trembling fists in a nursery room in a house that was not his (hell, just look at the curtains, of course, it was not _his house!_ ), staring down at the bloody mess on the floorboards beneath. The room was deathly silent. No one moved, no one breathed. Not that Haytham cared over his surroundings much at the moment. All of his attention was fixed, focused entirely on the blood on the floorboards and his son's jacket lying on the ground, pinned to the floorboards with the very same large hunting knife that previously hurt Miss Sillman. A message, clearly, unmistakably. A message to him and him alone that _they_ took his son and that they were not afraid to seriously injure him. He did not care for any of the persons rummaging the house or for the medics transporting Lucy to the hospital the Auditores owned. She would survive without a doubt if it just were to get her own revenge.

But Haytham Kenway could not remember the last time he had been this enraged.

Suddenly there was this jolt of irrational thoughts washing over him. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than Connor being a small child again, so he would be able to scoop him up in his arms and shelter him or gently stroke away any pain he might need to endure. He could not and Connor was no little child anymore. He was a child still, though. Only nineteen and maybe he had been a bit too hard on him. At least that was what Edward told him. Of course, his father was always on his grandson's side. They shared the same mindset, the same spirit, the same strong willed - strong-minded personality, with all their precious idealistic ideas and delusions. They were both annoying brats and absolutely infuriating to Haytham. However, Connor - precious, intelligent, wonderful Connor - was gone now.

And instead of raising hell at their enemies for capturing his son, he turned to Malik.

Whatever irrational voices wanted to take over Haytham's mind and drive him to act against his usual behavior, Malik appeared as if _his_ irrational voices already had taken over. He was pacing around the room, talking frantically to someone on the phone. Altaїr, perhaps? No, he already talked to Altaїr, did he not? How long had he been here? How long since the phone call?

It was his mind remembering him on his usual preposition when he looked around the room again. The nursery was at best messy and that was not because of the kid that was living in here. Furniture had been almost completely destroyed in what looked to have been one hell of a fight, the window was smashed and there were scratch marks on the floor. The kids were gone. Tazim just like Darim vanished from the house, taken by those annoying scumbags fucking with them.

Had they been so very misled the whole time? Had they really been so blind to their true intentions?

"Altaїr slow down." Malik's voice was shaking, though the man probably desperately tried to sound calm and collected. Right in that moment, Malik was the living image of the feelings raging deep down in Haytham's mind. It was quite astonishing to see him like this and just a single little part of Haytham wished he could show what he was truly feeling deep down inside – just a little bit more like Malik was able to or even his own father. " _Please_ , we don’t know yet what-" Malik was interrupted clearly by the enraged Altaїr on the other side of the line.

"Oh for pity's sake, boy, just let him do what he wants to." Haytham growled but was only met with a glare. Funny, one might say, how Haytham Kenway, Malik Al-Sayf, and Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad were finally forced in the very same position. All three of them fathers worrying for their sons. By now, Haytham was not even able to tell if his son was still alive or safe from harm.

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Altaїr's brain was ablaze. His whole body was lit up in flames. His hands were shaking, his heart was racing, his mind was a merry-go-round of insanity. He could not think straight! He was not able to think, he was not able to process. His son was gone. His beloved son was missing! He had been taken away from him! Connor had been seriously injured by whoever took Darim and Tazim and escaped the house and his son was _gone_!

Liam had done nothing to stop Altaїr from bolting out the car when he stopped in front of the hotel. Of course, he had called after Altaїr, but he had met only deaf ears, while Sef was squeaking and squealing in his little seat on the backseat, not in the least concerned that his father would leave him with the gardener.

When he left the elevator he was struck by a sudden jolt of cold and agonizing fear, causing him to break out in cold sweat, a sudden rush of absolute panic completely overwhelming him. What if he just made a terrible mistake in leaving Sef with Liam? What if those people just waited for him to do something stupid like that? But then again he did not believe that his children were their original target, no matter if Maria was involved in all this or not. Having her own children kidnapped just as well as Tazim, would not benefit her at all.

No. Sef was safe. He was sure. He wanted to be sure. Sef was safe. He was well. Sef was alright staying with Liam. There was no other way than this. He could not have endangered his child right now possibly, could he?

He stomped forward because he had nothing else he could do. He forced his entire body to move as if he tried to move through waist high snow. He felt like the elegant blue carpet, that was sprawled across the long hallway over the white marble floor, was to swallow him, to wind itself around his legs to stop him, while he was stomping forward on his mission to get to the door at the far end of the hall.

Now no one would be able to stop him again. Not now, when he was so close to his finish line.

Only one person met his way and looked at him puzzled, but Altaїr ignored the man in his dark suit when he finally reached the door to the suite 314. He did not exactly know what was going on with Robert and Maria, but whatever it was, it was not at all important to him right now anyway. His fists hit the door like a thunderous drum solo of some rock concert. He did not even know if Maria was here at all, but that was only what the last rational voice in his mind told him. Not even an hour ago, he and Maria split up at central park.

Oh, he would wait as long as it would take if she were not here, that was for sure!

It took a few devastating long moments until he finally heard movement behind the door and then a slightly disheveled Maria opened the door. Her hair was tangled and loosened from her previous hair-do as if she just took off her scarf over her head. She was still wearing her coat, though. "Altaїr, what the hell-" She began, but Altaїr shoved her back into the flat, grabbing her by her shoulders and slamming her into the nearest wall.

"WHERE IS HE?!" He yelled and she flinched, not only because the force with which Altaїr shoved her into the wall. He never screamed at her, no matter what had happened during their relationship. _She_ had been the one screaming and yelling at him for no reason what so ever most of the times. But now rage overtook him and got the better of him.

Maria's eyes were huge with shock – but no fear. No, in her eyes, he probably was still the little misbehaving puppy dog and nothing would change that it appeared.

"What do you mean?" She growled, her brows furrowed in anger over the assault, but she did not make a move to shove him back again.

"WHERE IS MY SON? WHERE IS DARIM?!" He yelled, his hands tightening around her shoulders, his fingers digging into the soft wool of her coat.

"I- _What_ do you mean?! I don’t know! He should be with you, shouldn’t he?" She exclaimed. She was baffled, to say the least, but slowly, very slowly there were the hints of fear creeping up in her blue-blue eyes. Blue like Darim's – only more spiteful most of the time. She was not honestly afraid something could have happened to her oldest son, was she?

His mind was racing and though he would have considered her to have honest and pure feelings for her sons and to be afraid for their well-being, right now he could not find the leisure to really think about _her_ sensitivities. Perhaps she really was worrying. Perhaps she really was afraid. It did not matter.

"Oh _fuck you_ , Maria!" He growled, bringing his face close to hers as if he was about to kiss her, but every single person seeing his face would immediately understand that this was not the case. His eyes were but thin blazing slits, his teeth were bared, his fists clenched in her coat. "Don’t act like you don’t know!" _Perhaps she_ does not _know_ , a tiny voice inside his mind told him with a fearful tremor. _No! She fucking_ knows _! Of course, she knows!_ "Your husband is behind this, right? Where is my son?"

"My husband?!" Maria shrieked. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Stop fucking playing dumb, for Christ's sake, Maria! Darim is gone and your husband is behind this, after all, he was the one sending this fucking junkie Swami after me to attack me in my own home in front of my kids! What was he supposed to do, I wonder. Was he ordered to kill me or just to beat me up and take away the kids?"

"You are talking absolute rubbish, Altaїr! I don’t understand what you are talking about! I don’t know any guy named Swami!"

"Of course you don’t!" He huffed. "You don’t care _how_ your husband gets you what you want, the only thing that matters is that he does!"

"Then for god's sake tell me what happened and let go of me or I scream so loud your aunt in Boston will hear me!" She threatened, though her face did not look all too threatening at the moment. Altaїr lingered a little bit longer, contemplating his options. He could, of course, keep using force against Maria, but then perhaps she really would start screaming and since they were living in a country were police and law enforcements would always believe women to be the victim of a crime and never men, his chances to bet arrested were high. He would go straight to jail only for grabbing her shoulders, after all, there were a few hardcore feminists pressuring the country and law enforcements all over the place. A few hardcore feminists, which were running around the country and spreading the word to young women, that men could even rape them only by staring at them, while judging women of the middle east wearing hijabs and burkas to shield themselves from the ever so hungry eyes of men, on the same instant. The world was absolute madness. A man could get stabbed almost to death by an aggressive woman for no reason at all and still, it would be him going to jail. Finally, after he pushed his hands again against her shoulders, he let go of her and stepped back, his nostrils flaring like those of a raging bull. Oh, Maria knew he would never harm a woman, no matter how much he would like to punch her right in her smug face right then and there.

"Malik called me." He then hissed, while he watched Maria straightening her posture again and brushing the nonexistent dust from her shoulders. "Someone broke into his house, attacked the maid and obviously even the new nanny. No traces of the nanny or Tazim and Darim. They are _gone_ , Maria. Kidnapped. And now tell me Robert has nothing to do with this shit."

"He has not! I swear! I mean-" She suddenly stopped and finally there was honest worry in her eyes after she seemed to have processed what he had just told her. "I don’t know, Altaїr, okay? I don’t know if Robert has something to do with this or not, but yes: He sent this guy after you to threaten you into giving in to my lawyer's demands! I just want to get my kids, no more no less!"

"Oh come on, Maria! You haven't even looked at Sef today!" He sneered.

"Robert said it would be bad publicity for him and me having my kids not living with me, alright? That’s why I came forward to you, but Robert is way more fierce in this than I am. He-"

"He is mafia and you know that Maria, so _please_ could you just stop playing the dumb damsel in distress? You did know when you marry him and I bet your whole family is involved in this business too, otherwise, your parents would not always have pushed you to marry this snob." Because now, since he knew about Robert being behind all this, it all made sense. Maria's parents always telling Maria to marry Robert, her parents hating Altaїr's guts, Maria's desperate attempts to get away from home. It all made fucking sense and a part of him wondered why he was so attracted to people like her and Malik. What was wrong with him for always searching the present of dangerous people?

Maria clenched her jaw in an attempt to bite down on the lie creeping up habitual in her mind. "Okay, you got me." She finally stated after a long, long pause and Altaїr was surprised, to say the least. "I knew right from the start and I knew I would not get away forever, so _yes_ , that’s why I married him. He means big influence, money, fame and fortune – you did not. But it is true that I don’t know what he has done. I don’t know where Darim is. He never told me that he was planning to kidnap Darim or Sef for that matter, because he knows he has to go a somewhat legal way to get the kids, for his reputation outside the underworld. He would have never kidnapped those kids and endanger my formal claims!"

Altaїr snorted. "But he did kidnap my child and he will pay for it."

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He was restless. Of course, he was. Sef was wailing quite unhappy in his cot, wiggling around like a small worm, flailing with all his limbs at once and still not getting anywhere. Being so small really was a tedious state of being. He wanted to get out! He wanted to see the world! He wanted to explore the room! The house even! He wanted to be picked up by his father, who always smelled so good lately! He wanted a little bit of physical contact! Maybe even a little kiss or a peck – Food would also be very nice! Maybe this lovely pumpkin mush this really, really dark chocolate covered man once made for him! But milk would also be quite nice, he guessed. Though he really liked pumpkin. Instead, he was in his cot, behind bars like the criminal he was and his only companion was his new snuggly friend, his squirrel. He was no help at all. He was a good friend, though. He was a bit quiet at times, but he was a great companion and he would even bear with his stupid father's actions along with Sef.

Well, that was certainly not fair, Sef thought, his father was not all that stupid, he guessed. His father was nice and warm and loving and just a tiny bit stupid from time to time. Especially when he was around Malik – who also smelled incredibly good for such a big human! – but it seemed as if his father finally began to settle into the thought of liking Malik. Maybe his father was not all that much beyond hope. Well, if he could speak yet, he would've helped his father to understand by now. But all he could do was wiggling around and crying.

It really was quite tedious and annoying being so little. He was not even yet a year old and his father seemed not to get how much Sef yearned for getting out his cot and finally be free. Instead, the man just paced through the room that was Malik's living room, simply ignoring his flailing. Sef began to grow angry with his father for ignoring him like that, so he spat out his trusted pacifier and began to scream louder.

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"What are we going to do, now?" Altaїr sighed, still pacing through the living room, while Malik just sat there, staring at his laptop as if their kids had not just been kidnapped. They had not received yet a message from their captors. It was pure madness! He felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin. He was uneasy, he was restless, he was fucking on edge! And Sef's wailing and screaming did not at all improve his momentary mood.

"We wait." Malik simply stated, not looking up at him at all, but all Altaїr wanted to do was ripping this guy's fucking head off! How could he be so calm? Of course, Malik was not calm at all! He could not possibly be calm about their kids and Connor's disappearance! Altaїr knew that he was not and yet he was so angry and so on edge that he just wanted to scratch his eyes out! Why was he even acting like this was the most normal situation? Why was he not just showing how he was really feeling?

What the hell was wrong with this guy?

"What do you mean 'we wait'?" Altaїr growled but stopped finally his pacing while Sef's screaming was slowly driving him insane. "Sef! Would you please stop this?" He finally turned to his baby son, but Sef would apparently have none of this. He was flailing like a little octopus in his cot, clearly unhappy and Altaїr did not even know what his fucking problem was!

"Don’t scream at the baby, Altaїr." Malik hissed, finally looking at him with narrowed eyed. " _He_ is not responsible for the situation and he doesn’t know what's going on, so stop screaming at him this instant or I'll punch out your fucking teeth."

Altaїr clenched his jaw _and_ his fists, ready to jump Malik, to lunge at him like an animal. How in the world did Malik even think that he was in any way entitled to tell Altaїr what to do and what not to do? He was not his boss anymore! But before Altaїr could really attack the man on the sofa, another person stepped in the room, clearing their throat clearly annoyed. "Would you stop this nonsense? There are people in this house trying to work, after you, Malik, decided we needed to stay here and forbade to move the investigation to a more suitable location."

Altaїr did not particularly like Haytham Kenway - at all. He was an arrogant, self-possessed asshole, a snob, always holding his nose up way too high for his own, fucking good, but in one last final attempt to find reason, his mind eventually was victorious over the raging fire that was Altaїr's body. So, he was not shouting insults at the Brit, he was not scratching his eyes out. Haytham was a father worrying about his son's life, just like Malik and he were, but, just like Malik, Haytham did not show any emotion what so ever.

It was as if those two men were robots! Fucking, emotionless machines or suppressed by their own ideology which forbade them to show how they were feeling deep down.

"I don’t care for your sensitivities, Haytham. We stay here until those assholes contact us." Malik snapped back at him, though they all knew that those assholes could as well get into contact with them when they would not be here at Malik's house. Maybe they would be better off at the Auditore mansion. Now Kadar was up there in Malik's office, after he just turned it into a high-tech heaven, with Ezio and Edward by his side, all trying to figure out how to get to those bastards the fastest way. Maybe Altaїr was the only one who doubted that they would b able to figure something out before someone would contact them.

"Of course, you are aware that my son too is involved in all of this, aren't you? So, I figured I would have some right to say in that matter. After all, it was you and your little hopeless lover boy over there who began fucking around with those people."

"I did not _fuck around_ with anyone, you asshole." Altaїr hissed, even though he was quite aware that this was one dumb move to make, so he continued as fast he could with saying: "So what now? What are we going to do if they contact us?"

Haytham bared his teeth at him like a rabid dog, ready to go for his throat to tear him apart like a little furry rabbit cutting across his path. Would he snap? Would he lunge at him? Suddenly there was this rush of adrenaline again surging through him just like in the night he came here or that faithful evening Swami made the big mistake of underestimating a male eagle in need of protection of his fledglings. Suddenly there was this sense of belonging and he did not even have the slightest clue why that was or why that possibly could be.

" _When_ they contact us." Malik began, clearing his throat. He looked almost shocked that Altaїr spoke to Haytham in that very fashion. "We will react accordingly."

"And what does that mean?"

"That means that we will locate them." Haytham clarified, crossing his arms behind his back. "One team will then infiltrate the place they hold Connor and the kids hostage and the others will meet their demands."

"But why going on a rescue mission, when we will meet their demands anyway?" Altaїr sighed.

"Because, _boy_ , those people are criminals-"

"Just like you."

"And we cannot be sure, that they will not kill their hostages anyway. We would definitely kill our hostages."

"At least if they are no children." Malik clarified immediately with one gloomy look.

"They won't kill Darim." Altaїr murmured. "Maria didn’t know about this-"

"That’s at least what she told you." Haytham interrupted him with a snort.

"And I decided to believe her, no matter what she did to me. She would never let her husband hurt our children. Not like this at least."

"I would be not so sure about this. Did you not say it was Roberts's idea fighting for custody anyway for reputation's sake? So what if there are no children to destroy his or hers reputation? Darim is in the same danger as Tazim and Connor are. And even Sef might be in danger too." Malik sighed and leaned back into the sofa cushions. Of course, he was worried, they all were, but at least he and Haytham were able to think straight. Altaїr was not.

"Okay then." He straightened his back.

" _Okay_ what?" Malik turned to him, finally taking off his glasses, a dark frown of concern on his face. Oh, this man knew him well too good by now. Malik seemed to be well aware that Altaїr was already again contemplating some stupid action.

"I will go with who ever goes to rescue the kids."

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In retrospect, Malik should have known that Altaїr would say something stupid like that. In retrospect, he should have expected Altaїr to go on a rampage against their enemies, now that they had taken his child. What he did not expect was that Haytham Kenway would agree with him. "Let him tag along if that’s what he so desires, Malik." The Brit dryly moaned, after he had gotten tired of them arguing in the living room, talking back and forth without coming to a conclusion for the situation.

"No, for god's sake! He is a civilian! He is not able to understand what something like that really means, Haytham. He should stay where he is safe with Sef."

"Then just tell him what he has to expect."

"Yes! Just tell me! After all, I too have a son missing, not only you, Malik! I will not stay put and wait! I can take care of myself and I will get back my child myself!"

Malik was beaten and he knew it. Of course, he could stay by his standpoint and deny Altaїr's inquiry but then Altaїr would try to get to them on his own and he would not survive such a dumb action for sure. At least, when Altaїr would come along with the rescue team, they would be able to protect him somewhat, right?

"You need to learn first." Malik then sighed defeated, though there was this gnawing fear deep inside him that he could lose Altaїr in any way. Ha! Ridiculous really! How should he lose something he never had in the first place? They were no couple. They were not in a tragic romance and all would turn out good in the end. This was not how the real world functioned. In the real world, people like Altaїr died because of their stupidity and temper. Still, he could not risk this to happen. He would need to talk to Ezio. "We don’t know yet where they are. Christ, Connor was a great tracker, he could have tracked them down already for us, but now we have to wait until they make a move and when we ae lucky Kadar will figure something out fast enough. We do not know yet where they are hiding and how the layout is or how many people they really have. But when you go with us, you will need to be ready to kill. This is no fun and games, Altaїr. This is deadly serious."

"Yes, I understood that when you killed Abu'l Nuqoud right in front of my eyes." There was a hint of bitterness to his voice, but Malik knew that Altaїr was no delicate little flower. And yet, he did not want to involve him in this life. Altaїr was this one thing not tainted by the Mafia. Maybe it was _that_ what Malik did not want to lose. Altaїr was oh so very different compared to all those people Malik needed to endure every day.

"This time it will be different. This time you will pull the trigger yourself." Malik growled. He could only hope that Robert and his pals would demand that Altaїr would need to meet them.

The call came in the middle of the night after Kadar built up his new home base at Malik's living room. Of course, they were all tired, but none of them would be able to sleep or even just think about going to sleep. Haytham, Malik, and Altaїr sat on the sofa when the call came in on Malik's laptop. Of course, his laptop, because even criminals were using skype for fuck's sake. I was almost pitch black in the living room except for the white light of the laptop screen. Malik looked at his brother, his cursor hovering over the "accept" button and when Kadar raised his thumb and put on the headphones, Malik clicked. He was always amazed how serious his brother could be when it came to things like this and how deeply concentrated his face appeared.

It was the first time he really had the chance of looking at Robert de Sable. Of course, he had seen a few photography's by now, his brother provided him with, but it was the first time they _met_ face to face. He was one ugly motherfucker. At least in his eyes and coming out of the mouth of a gay guy that really meant something he guessed. Malik was able to know beauty when he saw it and for him, it was an enigma why any woman would dump Altaїr for someone like this (other than money of course).

Robert was a bald headed apparently very tall man. His head had a strange shape, not quite round and not quite oval and not quite edgy, but he had an ugly, big scar on his right forehead, black, thick eyebrows almost looking like a unibrow and dark stubbles. He had broad shoulders, but not broader than Malik's. His black suit was hand tailored without a doubt, for the way it fitted his body and he was sitting leaned back in his leather chair like a man knowing that he had the high ground.

"I believe you found my present and I hope you found it to be most pleasant." His accent was heavy, his sentence structure weird for a guy being raised almost exclusively in the US. Robert de Sable was a guy priding himself on his French heritage without a doubt. He was that kind of French guy who hated being in America, but not willing to go back to France too because he liked to rub his imagined superiority into the face of those dumb Yankees and their wannabe nation. "I would guess dear Miss Stillman is still alive, isn’t she?"

Malik was by now experienced in this field of conversation and that was the only reason why he did not let his poker face slip in the slightest. Right now Robert might have the higher ground, but that did not mean Malik would give into this show of his. He remained calm and as cool as possible. He did not let his face slip in any way, he did not show any kind of emotion.

"She is actually." He stated dryly. Altaїr was fidgeting next to him slightly, but to their luck, Robert would not be able to see it. "I believe you two never met before, isn’t that true?" Malik then gestured towards Altaїr. "This is the man whose children you wanted to take away. Well, one might say you succeeded in a way after you just stole at least one of them."

"Indeed. Little Darim is a most welcome guest at the moment. Such a nice little boy, it would be quite a shame if something would happen to him or his friend – or his nanny." Haytham clenched his jaw and not so much because Connor was held hostage, but because of the term _nanny_. This guy and his fucking double standards, after all, it had been Haytham deeming Connor to be the nanny for those kids.

"So I believe there is something you want from me, right?"

"Isn't it custom in your country to make a little Smalltalk before turning the conversation to the serious business?" Robert snarled. "Well, my dear friend, it was a mistake turning down my very gracious offer from before."

"I believe you mean the threats of hurting or killing Altaїr, father to your wife's children if I won't give you the money and the weapons you demanded?" Malik asked in return right away.

"That, yes." Robert grinned. "Well, it was not wise trying to fuck with me or my associates and especially killing our beloved friend Abu'l Nuqoud left a big scar in our hearts. Not to mention your brother killing our dear friend Jubair without reason. We are still grieving their losses and it would only be right to give in to our wishes."

"Then what do you wish?"

"To ensure your children's safety – that includes their nanny – I would like to see you, Malik, giving in to our previous demands, plus I want you to give up your status here in New York. It is time you let us join the game."

"And you are not able to join the game on your own, like big boys, right? No, you need me out of the way first."

"Well, it is clearly easier this way. I want your businesses in the red light districts and I want your weapons. Plus, since we made a big catch – quite literally so – with catching even young Mr. Kenway, we would like to use this chance to expand right away and take over the black market of New York City. I believe it is Mr. Kenway senior holding the biggest share on this field."

"And why should _I_ give in to your demand?" Haytham snarled.

"Because I believe you want your son back as a whole, right? Well, I doubt that he could carry on the lineage if my men would cut off his dick and sent it to you – We could, of course, kill him, if you would prefer that."

"I don’t need my son to carry on the Kenway name. As you can see I am still here too and my father and I are very much capable of producing more heirs to our family fortune if necessary."

"Oh, isn’t that a shame, dear boy?" Robert turned to the side and with him, the camera turned. There was Connor, sitting tied to an already uncomfortable looking chair. Blood clung to his face like paint, obviously trickled down from his skull. His nose was bleeding and so was his mouth. There were blossoming bruises on his young face and a sharp cut on his right cheek, which would surely leave a scar. Malik could feel Haytham tense next to him, but he kept up appearances because being cruel in the face of his son was something Haytham Kenway mastered. Maybe it was good that it was not Edward sitting next to him because the old pirate would have lost his temper already, being confronted with his grandson's fate. "It seems your father did not even care enough about you to save your life."

Connor's gaze was focused on the ground to his feet, clearly exhausted from the day and the things happening to him, but when Robert grabbed his chin with claw-like fingers, he was forced to look at the camera with steel hard eyes. There was no fear or heartbreak because of his father's cruelty. Oh no, that boy was a Kenway and the Kenways were stubborn motherfuckers. Connor opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he said it was so quiet not even Robert could understand it. "What was that?" Robert smirked. "Do you have something to say to your father? After all, it could be the last chance you get, boy. Oh, what a waste of youth."

They watched as Robert got closer to Connor's face, after the boy tried to speak again with raspy breath coming over his lips, and then, right as Robert's ear almost touched Connor's face, the boy spit almost a mouth full of blood at him. "Go fuck yourself." Connor growled with his deep rumbling voice. Malik could almost feel the pride radiating from Haytham's body and would Edward be with them right now, he would have cheered. Even Malik could feel pride swelling in his chest. For just a split second Robert looked as if he was about to slap Connor across the face, but then he grinned and wiped away the blood on his face with his sleeve before he turned to the camera again. Connor's teeth were pink, but he grinned victoriously.

"He truly is a Kenway, I can almost smell his grandfather." Robert growled and turned away again, just like the camera did. Now it was only them and Robert again. "You get two days to decide what to do." Robert then said, his eyes icy after this assault. "Of course we lay out our demands in detail again. Don’t call me, I call you."

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Connor had always hated to hear children cry or sob. Perhaps that was only one reason why he wanted to become a kindergarten teacher. He really had been happy working at the kindergarten for the past few months. Really, it had not been a long time, but it had been one of the best in his life and he already missed it. But it was true what his father said to him, he had known right from the start that he could not keep this up forever. Perhaps he just suppressed this truth and tried living in his own little bubble. It had been easier like this. And now the truth had hit him with a baseball bat to the head so hard that he was still hurting. He felt like he had been run over by a truck.

Darim Ibn-La'Ahad was quite the tough sport. He did not cry since they were in this situation, at least not since they were in this room. "It's alright Tazim." Connor murmured. He had no clue how long it was since he had been thrown back into this room at all and he felt incredibly bad for lying to little Tazim. Of course, it was not alright. At least he got rid of the robes that had been biting into his skin for the time he needed to sit with Robert and listen to the conversation. Tazim was sobbing and hiccupping by his side, but Darim seemed to try to soothe him. To no avail.

"Darim, what do you remember about the way? Do you know anything at all about the place we're at?" It was not quite easy to get Darim to focus. Of course not, the boy was only four! He was overwhelmed, just like Tazim – Hell, just like Connor himself! But other than those kids Connor had grown up with the possibility of being murdered, kidnapped, tortured or worse to pressure his family or just to humiliate them. This was the world he had grown up in from the age of ten onwards, those kids, on the other hand, were innocent.

"We were in a van." Darim finally croaked and rested his little head at Connor's side, because he was not tall enough to rest it on his shoulder. "And then we were here."

"Yes, but did you notice something during the way? Something odd about the road perhaps? Some strange noises?"

"No…" Darim then murmured defeated. Then again, what did Connor expect? A four-year-old boy did not know what to listen for in such circumstances.

"There were bumps in the road." Tazim finally hiccupped, turning his wet face to his former kindergarten teacher and Connor could not help but wipe the tears away with his sleeve.

"Bumps?"

"Yes ... Those bumps on the road so you won't drive too fast." Well, that indeed was a valid information. They were not so very common here in the US and normally they were installed on roads with houses where kids might play on the street.

"Good, very good. Something else?" He dug deeper.

"I think I heard cows." Cows? So they were outside the city? No, that was not possible.

"What about the part when we arrived here?"

"We drove down. Like … like down the ramp of an underground parking lot. I heard some m-metal gate being opened and closed and then we drove on a bit." Tazim hiccupped, though he tried his best to fight against the urge to hiccup or gasp for breath like children his age would normally do while crying.

"Do you know how long?"

"No…" Tazim murmured. "But maybe … Well … around twenty minutes."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because the car drove really slowly, around 6 miles per hour, just as slow as daddy always drives when he is driving around the parking lot of the supermarket." Tazim really was a clever and observant boy, but that did not tell them really how long they drove after they got down or how far from the entrance they were.

From then on Connor vaguely remembered what happened. He had not been fully conscious when the van's door had been ripped open, but he could remember being dragged through a maze of corridors and hallways until they were dispatched in here. He had been blindfolded and tied up like a fucking roulade and dragged around through seemingly endless corridors. It was quite hard to remember the full extent of this journey after he had been knocked out for what must have been at least one hour and had been still dizzy when he got out of the van. Still, he remembered at least the last part of their way until they had been dropped off in this room. They had walked along a straight corridor (or something), for at least five minutes, then turned left and walked on straight again, before they turned right and up a flight of stairs. They only got up one floor though and then, after walking down a hallway again they turned left again and arrived at this room. Maybe now they were at ground level, but Connor was not able to tell after he did not know how deep this parking lot had been underneath the ground. Maybe they were still in the basement area. Without a window in their room, it was not possible to tell.

They only got the bright neon lamps on the ceiling of their little cell and two beds only separated by a small shelf with a few books. For a _cell_ to keep hostages in, it was actually quite nice. They even got a tiny toilet room and a shower, but those people made sure that they would not be able to use anything in this room as a weapon. So, Connor only had his bare hands if it would come to this.

"Don’t worry guys, we will get out of here." He reassured them, finally getting to his feet again. He tried to figure something out, though he heard the conversation between Robert and his father, Malik, and Altaїr. Still, their safety was not ensured. Of course, he could lean back, read a book and just wait, because he knew they would come to rescue them, but he had grown up in this underground society and he knew that their safety was still at risk. He needed to act quickly, not only for the safety of the kids but to take away the pawn Robert and his men had.

When they took Connor out of their cell, it had been two guys and he had heard the sound of an electronic padlock securing the door. One of the men had opened the door and pointed a gun at him, while his partner tied him up and blindfolded him again. This was indeed a hurdle. One person Connor would be able to overpower, but two? Of course, there always would be the risk of the person having a gun, thus he would endanger the kids with an attack.

It seemed that, for now, he could only wait and see what would happen to them. He needed more information, a bit more time and a not hurting head.


	23. moo

"So let me get this straight ... You are planning on going on one of your stupid rampages again and I shall look after your baby squirrel." There he was, Shaun fucking Hastings, his eyes narrowed on the baby presented to him. His arms crossed dismissively and his expression stoic.

"Exactly." Altair replied and his baby son was looking up at Shaun with big brown eyes. The baby in the dark blue stroller seemed not to be quite pleased as his father tried to give him to Shaun like this, as if he was just a baby kitten or a puppy dog he needed to get rid of. Then again, Sef was really hardly ever pleased.

"So how about you first come in for a moment then? Wouldn’t that be considered polite?" The Brit groaned exasperated. That was of course hardly new in any way whatsoever - at least not when Altaїr and Shaun were having their little conversations, no matter that they had not seen each other for a while now. Altaїr was still standing outside his cousin's flat on the hallway and he was quite glad that he hardly ever encountered any neighbor up here in this fancy artist's quarter. Right now, it was only he and Sef, while outside Malik was waiting for him in the car. He did not take his usual black BMW and they took great care when they left Malik's house if someone was to watch them. It had not been all that easy and a little bit Altaїr felt like he was in some James bond secret agent movie, but they simply could not risk being followed.

"Nah ... its okay..." Altair murmured if just for the reason, that he would much rather not risk meeting his cousin. It was still very early in the day and there was hardly any reason for Desmond not being home right now, other than that he maybe was out on a run. Maybe he was behaving just a little bit childish again and it was not as if he would not know this, but he really did not want to meet his cousin right now. Oh, he knew how Desmond would react to the state of his face and to the insane plan, he came up with. Hell, Desmond was not even yet informed about the situation they were dealing with. Bill on the other hand was and Altair forbade him to speak about all of this. He could only hope his uncle would stay put after the lecture Altair already got from him yesterday. Of course, his uncle had tried to talk some sense into his stubborn nephew - to no avail.

"Well, no it isn't. If I am going to take care of your child I will need to know exactly why that is and Desmond will wonder surely too about this. Where is Darim anyway? Normally your kids are coming in a pair of two!" Oh, that was not going to be easy at fucking all, he could already sense it. Of course, Shaun of all the people would not just let him go like this. Altair sighed and looked past Shaun into the flat. "Is he home?" He quietly asked though very probably he would have already noticed if his cousin was in fact home.

"No." Shaun answered and Altair had no chance of determining if this was just one big bloody lie or in fact truth. It seemed as if e had no other choice than to risk it if he wanted to store away Sef safely. He already packed all the things his little squirrel would need for his stay at Desmond's and Shaun's place and he was positive that the both of them would take great care of little Sef. Desmond was not the guardian of his children for no good reason after all. For a moment, he thought back to jealous thirteen-year-old Altaїr in Boston and how utterly angry, confused, and thrown off he had first been, when he had learned about Shaun. Today he would almost wish that those two would finally get married so he would know his children in good care if something would happen to him.

"Alright … I guess I don’t have any other choice." Altaїr sighed defeated and Shaun only nodded. "No you don’t, so come on in and stop being such a baby. Look at Sef, even he behaves more like an adult than you do."

And so Altaїr did, after Shaun stepped aside to let them pass, and shoved the stroller into the loft. He heard that the TV was running and he felt the sting of the ultimate betrayal immediately. Shaun was only watching TV when Desmond would force him to! "Oh, you fucking traitor!" Altaїr moaned just when Shaun closed the door behind him and grabbed his shoulders from behind to push him forwards like a warden.

"I did not betray you and I am no traitor. For being a traitor my loyalty would need to lie with you, sadly it doesn’t. And now get it over with. I can't have your cousin lying around uselessly or sulking in the corner any longer." Shaun snorted without any mercy and Altaїr suddenly was not sure if he wanted to have Sef staying with them, for the baby otherwise would have the same attitude afterward.

" _He_ is sulking?" Altaїr hissed, but he stepped forward nonetheless on this dangerous and dire path that was lying in front of him. He was, of course, willing to forget about the fact that it had been Shaun Hastings forbidding the contact between him and his cousin altogether and moving on from this - no matter his hurt pride. After all, he did recognize why Shaun reacted as he did that one Halloween night. But now he, in fact, did have greater worries to tend to after all. Malik was already waiting for him. Things were going to happen soon. He needed to get his shit together right now.

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_The screen was glowing again and the white light shining brightly (way too brightly) into his sleep-deprived face. Two days. Two full days of not sleeping really got the better of Altaїr - but at least he was not the only one looking like absolute garbage. He did not hear from Maria since he visited her two days ago in her hotel room. The only thing she had let him know was that Robert promised to not hurt Darim. But hell, what was that even supposed to mean? He already hurt Darim by kidnapping him, did he not? He already left a scar on his innocent soul. For just an instant, Altaїr even contemplated attacking her, taking her, giving her to Malik and his pals. But he dropped this thought as quickly as it had come to him. Clearly, he did not so because he was better than this - hell no! - But only because he knew it would not be easy like this. Maria would be highly protected, that was something he knew for sure. He would not get away with this. Darim would not get away with this. His children were nothing Robert cared for, his wife, on the other hand, was something he cared for. Altaїr did not know if Robert did, in fact, love Maria or if Maria did, in fact, love Robert. It was not concerning him any longer. But for whatever reason Robert cared about Maria, it was possibly strong enough to raise hell upon his enemies._

_They sat together again. He, Malik and Haytham. All three of them fathers worried sick for their sons, but only one of them seemed to be just cool and calm enough to not give away how he felt in reality. Of course, Haytham Kenway was devastated just like they were, but he would not show any signs of it and Malik too appeared calm and collected. It was hard for Altaїr not to just throw insults at Robert when his pale face appeared in front of them. He needed to use Malik and Haytham as an example and he knew this, but it was oh so very hard._

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The silence was nearly deafening. Desmond sat on the large comfortable sofa mindlessly staring into the TV where some stupid sitcom was running as if he was not even there. The audience was just reminding the people in front of the TV that whatever just happened was meant in a funny way and that those mindless consumers were meant to laugh just as they were when one of the protagonists stumbled into a room full of naked fat people. Altaїr did not get the joke to be quite frank. It was something about some thin dude running around like a mindless idiot, bringing himself into uncomfortable situations. Well, at least it was supposed to be funny.

"Darim was kidnapped." Desmond then finally stated dryly when he turned his head away from the oh, so interesting sitcom and faced Altaїr. And Altaїr - well - he did not really know what to make of his facial expression. He was not _mad_ and he did not appear as if he wanted to go on a rampage, but then again Desmond was a lot calmer than he normally was. Oh, Altaїr knew that Desmond's heart was pounding and that his mind was racing, but he did not show even a little sign of that on his fucking face.

"Yes. He, Tazim and Connor." Altaїr answered with a small nod, gently stroking through Sef's soft curls, while his baby boy was clinging to his hoodie. Shaun had his face covered with his hands and was slowly dragging them down, taking his glasses of instantly. "And when did you think of telling us?" The Brit groaned, his brown eyes drilling into Altaїr's.

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_This time Connor was sitting in the background. He was tied to a chair again, his wrists and even his ankles were bound to the wooden stool as if he meant that much of a threat to Robert if he would not be bound like an animal to that chair. At least Connor appeared to be quite calm and once more Altaїr noticed how much he looked like his father when he was that quiet and apparently relaxed. He did not give away any sign of agitation or inner turmoil. Altaїr was not able to tell by Connor's expression alone how they were treated or if Connor at least was with the children the whole time. He looked a little bit better than before, but the injuries were still clearly visible on his face even in the bad lighting on the other side of the screen._

_"So back to business." Robert said and gained back Altaїr's attention with this. "I believe you did have enough time to consider my offer."_

_"We did." Haytham answered, his voice just as calm and dry (and posh) as ever and not like his son was sitting behind his kidnapper, clearly bound to a fucking stool. Robert could torture or kill the boy right in front of them and they would not be able to do anything about this. They could torture or rape or humiliate their children as soon as the camera would turn off and they would not be able to do anything about it. All they could do was hope and pray that those people would not harm them anymore. He never felt this helpless._

_"So? I am quite curious how you decided, to be honest." Robert smirked, but he made it appear as if it was meant like a fond and friendly and curious smile. In the background, suddenly Connor was moving on his chair. For a moment, Altaїr was almost positive that the boy had been drugged when he began bucking his chair forward neighing like a fucking horse!_

_Absolutely everyone was irritated. Even Robert was looking puzzled at the boy, but Connor kept it up and his chair was bucking so much that Altaїr could already see him fall to the ground in his mind. Robert just waved to one of his handymen staying somewhere in the off (at least that was what it looked like) and a dark skinned individual appeared on screen, his back turned to them when he grabbed Connor's chair to make him behave again. Connor stopped without provoking the man in any way. Weird. His whole behavior was fucking weird._

_"I am so very sorry for his behavior, gentleman." Robert turned to them again with a sadistic smile tugging on his lips, while looking directly at Haytham. The Brit still remained cool, but all the more Altaїr was positive that he was not. "Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes, your decision. I am all ears."_

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"What are you going to do now?" Desmond sighed, but Altaїr only shrugged his shoulders as if this question alone was obsolete.

"We get them of course. Don’t worry about this, Des. We will get them back and Darim will be okay." At least that was the fucking plan, though Altaїr still did not know if this really was how things were going to be, but he hoped for it. He just wanted his boy happy again. He wanted that everything would get back to normal again.

"You don’t plan on going on a rescue mission, do you?" Shaun's face told him clearly that they all knew that Altaїr's answer would be a fucking lie, but the Brit asked anyway and his tone was concerned anyway. Altaїr would have never expected Shaun Hastings to be so concerned about his well-being and he still did not really know how to feel about this.

"No, of course not. I let Malik and the others take care of this." Altaїr snorted when he stood up and gave his baby son to Desmond. It was time to go now. But at least he wanted to part ways with a kiss to his son's forehead. He wanted to feel him one last time, to smell him before he would take off. "Take care of the gremlin."

"Don’t worry, he will not get fed after midnight and we won't splash water on him, but for how long?" Shaun groaned in one last attempt to keep Altaїr from taking off.

"Don’t know." Altaїr then grinned humorlessly. "Until I'm back I guess." Whenever that would be.

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_"I am glad to hear that you, at last, came to your senses and agreed to meet my offer." Robert stated, after Haytham finally answered, his eyes fastened on his son in the background, whether he himself noticed it or not. "Then I believe we could start to make arrangements, right?"_

_Connor mooed._

_He did. Connor fucking Kenway sat in his chair and mooed like a cow and the room suddenly was silent. It was clear to Altaїr that Connor was either drunk or drugged. He must be. Why else would he behave so completely insane? Connor kept on mooing and started bucking again before Robert had enough and gestured towards one of his handymen again to get Connor to behave. This time the dark skinned man grabbed Connor's lose long hair violently and ripped back his head before he pressed a hunting knife against his elegant throat. Connor stopped again. "I_ bet _you won't do it." Connor grinned but was silent again when the guy pressed the knife harder to his skin and drew the first drop of blood as if it was nothing but a drop of dark red paint dripping lazily from the blade. The boy did not even flinch._

_"Why, I think this must be the savage blood the poor child has." Robert sighed. "He is nothing but an animal as it seems now. Are you sure you did mate with a human woman, after all, dear Haytham?"_

_Altaїr did not know Haytham Kenway (or any of the Kenways) well, but there was one thing he did know about father and grandfather of young Connor: The both of them would never tolerate someone speaking in such fashion about the boy. Still, Haytham kept his face cool and the fingers of his left hand digging into the fabric of his dress pants._

_"Would you go on now with your demands. We don’t have all day, as you can imagine." Haytham finally answered calmly._

_"I expect you to meet me in three days for the handover. Of course, you will get the details on the usual way. And I expect_ all of you _to meet me."_

_"What do you mean by that?" Haytham asked,_

_"I would be dumb if I would just ask you three to come while your pals start some kind of rescue mission, right? No. I expect the Auditore as well as your brother and dear Connor's grandfather to come. After all, what kind of family reunion would this be if not the whole family is going to be there?"_

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"You are _not_ serious, Altaїr." Malik stared at him as if he was wearing a French maid costume or a diving suit. (He was not, of course). Malik was sitting at the kitchen table when Altaїr entered the room, just like he did so often in the past few weeks already. There was nothing special about all this, maybe only the look on his face. He could still hear Kadar click-clacking on his keyboard in the living room, why ever the boy decided to keep using the living room as his new habitat and not the office upstairs. First, he had not been able to understand why Kadar had been so very excited after the conversation with Robert ended the night before, but then the geek jumped off his ass and exclaimed that Connor was a fucking genius even with his head bashed in.

He still had no clue why.

"Of course I am serious, Malik. I am extremely serious in fact." Though his thoughts were with Sef. This morning he had given his baby boy to Desmond and already it felt like an eternity!

"We spoke about this already! You won't come with us!"

"I _will_ come with you! I definitely will!" Maybe they really were talking in circles and Altaїr was aware of this - he really was, but there was no way he would stay put while Malik would go on a rescue mission for their children. "Sef is safe with Desmond. You yourself said this. Liam and Adé will keep an eye on Shaun, Desmond, and Sef. Even Bill told me he would stay with them until he hears from me again. We don’t need to worry about them and I will not stay behind like some fragile little flower. I can take care of myself; didn’t I proof that with Swami when I bashed his head in?"

"But he was one guy and he did not expect any kind of resistance from you. You had the moment of surprise on your side. This time you will not. I stay true to my word; I don’t want you to come with us." Malik growled taking his glasses off and almost smashed them when he threw them onto his table, his brows furrowed so tightly they were forming a straight line.

"You did say I could as long as Robert would not expect me at the handover, but since plans have changed by now your argument is invalid." Altaїr reminded him, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"He still expects you there!"

"So what? Same goes for you and Haytham and yet we are all going."

"No, we are not _all_ going. _I_ go and _Kadar_ goes and _Haytham_ and _Edward_ and _Ezio_ are going. That does not make _all_ of us because _you_ will visit the Auditore mansion for a nice dinner with Sofia and Claudia Auditore tomorrow night!"

"Stop treating me as if I was a fucking damsel in distress, Malik!" He yelled. "I am not your wife! I am not your girlfriend! I will join you and I will get my son out of there whether you like it or not!"

"I can't take care of you when we're inside! I cannot have myself worrying for you too, you idiot! Not with my son at risk!" Malik yelled back, finally jumping off his ass, balling his fists. He would not lunge at Altaїr, no matter how aggravated he was - no matter how aggravated they both were.

"You don’t need to!"

"I-"

"Whoa there! Could you stop yelling at each other? Jeez! I thought this would stop after you finally fucked but you two behave all the more like an old married couple." Kadar war never more welcome to interrupt and never more annoying than right in that very moment. Fucking prick. Kadar had seemingly neither washed nor shaved nor slept for a few days now and was surviving on a diet of energy drinks, coffee, cup noodles and sugar. He looked absolutely disgusting, but Malik ensured all of them worrying for Kadar's sanity, that his younger sibling always looked like this as soon as he bit down on a new project and wouldn’t let go of it. He stank a little bit (mainly of cup noodles) when he elbowed his way past Altaїr into the kitchen and flinched because of the bright light inside the room. His chin was stubbly, his black hair so greasy it was curled at the tips, his glasses had greasy fingerprint all over it and his clothes were at the best stained, while dark circles told the tale of the lack of sleep. Altaїr almost expected the guy to fall asleep right on the spot.

"You are fucking disgusting, do you even know that?" Altaїr moaned and leaned against the doorframe while Kadar was shoving his head inside the fridge.

"I know." He chirped. "But Babe, don’t forget that you almost sucked my disgusting cock for money, alright?" Malik looked as if he was about to strangle his little brother only for this stupid little remark. His jealousy was stronger and fiercer than he was willing to show, as it seemed. "Anyway, _Darling_ , dear brother, I have exciting news."

"Something about Connor being a genius again for mooing and behaving like a batshit crazy person?" Malik huffed and finally gave up on the documents he had been working on until Altaїr walked in.

"Yeah, something like this." Kadar agreed waving his hand as he pulled his head out of the fridge again and closed it with an apple in his hand. Fuck, this was the first time in the last days Altaїr saw Kadar with something healthy. Seemed as if he really was done with his little project, for he told Altaїr that the sugar and all this unhealthy stuff helped him think. "You should all be very grateful for him behaving like this."

"And why is that?" Altaїr inquired, for he was sure that if Haytham Kenway would have heard what Kadar just stated, the Brit would rip Kadar's head clean off for this offense. A Kenway behaving in such ridiculous fashion! How could anyone be grateful for that?

"Well, first because Robert did not understand what Connor was doing." _So, just like us, he?_ "He now will underestimate him. Our enemies never cared to inform themselves much about some kindergarten teacher like Connor. For them, Connor is just a child rebelling against his legacy and now he is all the more not considered to be a threat to them, after this ridiculous behavior. Of course, they checked all of us thoroughly, but Connor did a very good job in not appearing as a threat to our enemies without even knowing that. I don’t know if they think he is a bit cuckoo in the head, but it doesn’t matter now anyway."

"Then why did he behave like this?" Malik sighed, clearly annoyed with his brother. "Just get to the point already, Kadar!"

"Oh for Christ's sake did you really not notice?" Kadar looked at them as if they did not notice something like a grizzly bear walking through the background during the video chat with Robert and suddenly Altaїr really felt a little bit unobservant and stupid for not noticing something so apparently obvious, that even Kadar noticed. "He was giving us hints to where they are! As best he could that is!"

"And what does that have to do with cows and horses?" Altaїr asked, already questioning either his own or Kadar's sanity by now. Did he really miss something so crucial or was Kadar more brilliant than he thought?

"Altaїr, really, you should start to listen and watch more carefully in the future. It's quite a miracle you and your kids are still alive, for your lack in observing should already have you guys killed by a fucking bus or train or something."

"Shut up and just tell us!" Altaїr hissed.

"It's not just cows and horses! It’s the fucking turf!" Kadar exclaimed with an all-embracing gesture of his arms and almost let his apple fall into Malik's lap with this.

"What turf?" Malik asked, seemingly just as confused as Altaїr was.

"The old McFarland turf! It's still maintained though there aren't many people that are going there anymore. Nowadays most gamblers and horse enthusiasts are going to the new stadium to bet on their horses. The old McFarland turf though became something like a more underworld kind of arena, you know? Those gamblers there now mean serious business and are no one to fuck with. I myself have been there a few times already since its transformation."

"But why cows?!"

"Because the old turf is near some old farm and meat factory where cows are held. They are running around the meadows near the turf minding their own business, shitting and mooing so loud you can hear it near the arena even! I think I saw even a cow souvenir shop in the parking lot of the arena once. That was what Connor tried to tell us! They are at the turf!"

"Are you sure?" Malik asked.

"Well no, I am not, brother dear. I just said it out loud and wasted the last forty-eight hours of researching this because I am not sure. Of course, I fucking am! Remember the bucking he did? There are bumpers on the road near the turf on the road that leads to the underground parking lot underneath the arena. It has something to do with the farm I believe, though I thought that the farm is not longer maintained for the owner died tragically a year ago."

"In what tragic way?" Altaїr was not even so sure if he wanted to know that. Now, that he had a clue he just wanted to go and get his son.

"Well, he fell in the meat grinder one day. Very sad you see. He fucked with the wrong people."

"With Majd Addin?" Malik's face was one of purest winter. Altaїr did not know who that Majd Addin was, but he heard Malik and the others talk about him a lot lately and for all Altaїr understood this guy were one dangerous maniac.

"Exactly. Good old Majd wanted the farm and the meat factory for himself and poor, poor old Mr. Harrison fell into his very own meat grinder. I never bought salami after this incident like I did before."

Altaїr did not even try to fathom why someone like this Majd Addin wanted to own a meat factory or a cow farm because if he would really start thinking about it, he would never eat meat again. "So what are we going to do now?"

"I already got the blueprints of the building set up in the command center-" - "My living room." - "-and already figured out how to ensure you guys' safety when you go in. All I need is to gather the equipment and then you are good to go as for me."

"You are not coming with us?" Altaїr asked with furrowed brows, not sure if he should be glad or not that Kadar would not join them.

"Nah, I'm the tech guy. I am responsible for all the itty-bitty cameras inside there and all those nasty electronic locks, while I make sure you are not running in any folks you don’t want to run into. The only thing I cannot do for you guys is to tell you where the boys are or where Robert and his pals could be. I am positive that Majd is somewhere around in this place, but when it comes to Robert I am not quite sure."

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Four days. It was four days already. Four days without sunlight or a glimpse of the outer world, only accompanied by the two boys he needed to take care of. Other than the two occasions when he had been dragged out of the room to sit bound to a chair like some kind of dangerous animal in a room with Robert to listen to him and his family talking, he only saw other adults when they got food. At least they were taking good care of their prisoners. Three times a day someone would enter the room to bring them food, always accompanied by another guy behind the door to chime in if something, in fact, did happen to his pal. They – especially the kids – were treated quite decently and the food was not just bread and water too. For the kids, it was still frightening when the door was opened by those assholes and they still gathered behind Connor in search of protection. At least he could read to them, for the books in the room were mainly children's and coloring books. They could draw and play just little enough to sometimes forget their surroundings and Connor did his very best to take away any fear they could experience.

Connor used those four days as best he could to study his surroundings and come up with a plan. Oh, of course, he had been there when Robert talked to his father, Malik, and Altaїr, but still, he was not dumb enough to really believe he would meet his father in two days again. It would be not wise to simply rely on Robert's words. No, rather he made sure to learn everything he could about his new surroundings and the way the people worked around their cell.

He learned that there were not always two guards in front of their door and that not always there was a second guard to watch when one of them would enter their cell. There was no camera inside their room either and no monitor on the other side of that door to watch them. There was, however, an intercom installed by the metal door, but too high for the children to operate it. The door was being opened to the inside, so behind the door, someone could hide, which could be either helpful or fruitless.

When he tugged the kids into bed on that fourth day and lied down on his own bed, he had time to think about a plan. By now he still, had no clue how far away they were from the exit, but at least now he did have a good understanding of where they were held captive at least. He had never been at the turf of course, but at least now, he had a slight impression how the layout was. There were at best two underground levels and they were on the upper one, chances were good that above his head on the other side of the ceiling the ground floor of this arena lied. Sometimes, when he was dragged around he could hear horses and he knew from his grandfather that the owners of this place kept the horses downstairs like the old Romans held their lions in the colosseum. Those poor things. Connor would love to free them, but he had more pressing matters to tend to.

Maybe he just needed to risk it. There would not be hundreds of guards down here, right? He had been able to examine the hallways at least and only walked past half a dozen of cameras, as for those he really could see at least. If they would be able to be sneaky little shits they would be able to go back the way they came when they first arrived, right? He did see the staircase on one of his little adventures to Roberts's _office_ , which was on the same floor as their cell. But could he really be sneaky with two four-year-old children? Well, he did have two more days to find out, right?

He knew his family would try to rescue them and he knew they would act soon, maybe even tomorrow. In two days, the handover would happen in the light of the sunrise on the outskirts of town. How stupidly stereotypical. He almost expected Robert to wear a pinstriped suit and a fedora or something like that when the day arrived.

Maybe they would even come tonight? Yesterday they talked to Robert and Connor was at least a little bit surprised that Robert did not hurt them by now. Maybe he wanted something else? Maybe he saved them for later? Whatever it was, tomorrow he and those children would leave this place and Connor already knew how he would do it.

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It was dark inside Malik's bedroom, but he was not asleep at all. He knew he needed his sleep and a good night's rest for the things they would do tomorrow. They would act when the night would fall so the darkness would hide their intruding. Oh, he would love to go right now. He wanted to just go and get back his child. Reason, however, forbade it. Reason told him he needed to stay put and calm. They planned everything and everything was already settled and done. All he needed to do tomorrow was-

"Malik?"

Oh for Christ's sake! He had not even heard the door being opened and one moment he cursed himself that he had been so lost in thought to not notice. Well, it was either that or Altaїr was so fucking good at being stealthy. He turned his head to the door though his room and the hallway were pitch black just as the world around. His eyes had been adjusted to the darkness quite well, still, he could only see the contours of Altaїr in the doorway.

"Yes? I am here." He sighed. He did not want to talk. He talked so much the whole fucking day, he argued back and forth with this stubborn individual and yet he felt like he wanted to talk, to not be alone with his thoughts and his mind going on a rampage.

He heard the silent steps shuffling inside the room and the door being closed softly behind Altaїr. Oh, Malik did not ask what he wanted. Probably he did not want to be alone just like Malik - or he just wanted to be near? Nonsense.

A moment later his covers rustled in the dead of the night and cold feet found their way between his naked legs. Malik could not help but flinch, but instead of moving away, he wrapped his arm around Altaїr's lean frame. He was hopeless. _They_ were hopeless.

"What if Robert does something to them?" Altaїr asked silently in the darkness.

"We'll make him pay. We'll make him pay no matter what."

 


	24. puppy wolves

"Connor…" Darim's voice was a lot quieter than ever before. He introduced the kids as silent as he could to his plan just an hour ago. Of course, Connor would have loved to get a bit more input on his plans, but of course, he could not hope that two four-year-old boys would be able to come up with some master plan on their own, right? "I'm really not sure about that…"

 _Well, me neither, little one_ , Connor thought with a heavy heart. He was risking the kids' lives and he knew this. It was maybe not wise what he was doing, but he had no other choice! "We don’t know if our fathers understood my hints, buddy." Connor sighed. "We don’t know if they know where to search for us. I don’t know either if what I hinted at was correct. We cannot afford to wait and hope to be rescued, Darim. Of course, our fathers will try to help us anyway, but sometimes you must take fate into your own hands." Darim looked at him with his big blue eyes and Connor knew that the boy still thought his father to know all the answers. It was only natural.

 _Look who's talking! You are endangering those kids and you do it as if it means nothing! They are afraid, Connor! They do believe their fathers will come for them to rescue them because_ their _fathers are no complete assholes! Do not take that away from them!_

"But if they come to rescue us" - Tazim chimed in, his blue eyes watery again - "and we are already gone … then what?"

"We are faster than they are and as soon as we are out there we will find a way to get in contact with them. But now you guys need to be strong and tough, alright?" _What are you asking of them, you moron?! They are four fucking years old!_

He felt their eyes digging into his skin and he felt horrible because of this. Those kids trusted him – with their lives even - and he was adamant to endanger them. But what other choice did he have? It was true: he did not know if they understood what he wanted to tell them and he did not even know if he was right about this location. They could not just stay put and wait for them to rescue them. It was too dangerous. He doubted they would kill the kids, not right away that was at least. Maybe they would kill Tazim because Malik was their sworn enemy, but Robert would not hurt Darim, right? He would not hurt his stepson. Connor, on the other hand, was as good as a Deadman walking right now.

He did not know how late it was, only that it must be around the late afternoon. It was hard to estimate how much time went by since the last time someone brought them their meal, but he was sure that it was at least three hours since the door had been opened and since the guard in front of it walked in to put a metal tray onto the small desk on the opposite wall. Maybe it would even be dark outside already when they would leave, though he still did not know how to get out the parking lot if there was a gate.

"Are you guys ready?" He then turned to the kids again with a soft smile tugging on his lips, before he moved to the door next to his very own bed. Connor chose the bed by the door, so he would be able to stand between the kids and any danger if it would come to something like that. By now, at least no one laid a finger on the boys. He already pushed the wooden chair underneath the intercom for Darim to use. The whole day Connor spent listening carefully to their surroundings to estimate when the best time would be to act. He had been able to make out a certain pattern in their guards' behavior by now and just ten minutes ago, when he pressed his ear to the metal door, he had been able to hear one of the guards leaving his companion for at least one hour.

"No." Tazim whimpered. He stood close to Connor's bed and fiddled on his sweatshirt. Connor made sure they were properly dressed and he thanked the heavens that Altaїr and Malik decided to give them dark clothes on the day of their kidnapping. Darim on the other hand already climbed the stool underneath the intercom, his eyes fiercely focused on his task ahead. Darim was quite the brave little guy, at least that was what he tried to appear as, though of course, he was just a frightened little child.

"Yes." Darim decided to reach for the intercom. Connor nodded and walked towards the bathroom. The room was just big enough that he could fit into it and turn around a few times with a shower and a sink confined in it. With a swift move, he turned on the shower and walked back to the door of the room again to position himself behind it. "There you go." With that Tazim, moved back towards the bathroom door. He did not need to do much, all he needed to do was to look frightened – and that, the poor child did anyway.

Connor had one last small look around the room. There really was nothing he could use as a weapon, other than the stool Darim stood on right now. If he would act swiftly and managed to surprise the guy quick enough, he would be able to use the chair. He took a deep breath and then Darim pressed the button of the intercom.

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Never in his life had he felt more nervous than right now when they assembled in the Auditore mansion. The Kenways were the only one not here, for they would pick them up on the way in another location. Everything else would be too dangerous for the boys, just in case their enemies really did watch them. This morning Shaun brought the stroller of Sef with a doll lying inside it, which he got from Kadar, to Malik's house and Altaїr now did have the fake Sef with him, when they entered through the front door of the mansion, he, Malik and Kadar. They were wearing their usual clothes when they entered the house but changed as soon as the door was locked shut behind them.

Dressed in completely black clothes Malik, Kadar, and Ezio left the mansion again. Ezio had kissed his pregnant wife goodbye and his younger sister (oh such a fierce and beautiful young lady), promised she would protect Sofia and the unborn baby if it would come to this, after all, she would know how to wield a blade and for some reason, Altaїr didn’t question her ability when it came to that. They wandered down into the basement and through a maze-like tunnel system until Altaїr was not even sure if they were still on the property when they got to the black van waiting for them and ready to go. He felt like in some movie once more, but this was no movie and their kids in real danger. Ezio took the steering wheel and the rest of them took their seats in the back of the car, where Kadar had already set up his equipment.

His heart was pounding when they left the underground parking lot into a small forest. Well, at least those people knew how to make an undetected escape. The windows of the car were tinted and the darkness surrounding them was guarding them from preying eyes. Almost the entire right side of the back of the van was occupied by various monitors and Kadar's laptop, with cables absolutely everywhere.

They met the Kenways - father and son - when they just left a museum. Ezio stopped the van at a red light just when another van appeared behind them and blocked the sight onto the street from at least one side. Quickly the two men entered the van while a beautiful dark haired woman and her red headed friend got into Haytham's car and drove off, covered by the other vehicles. Altaїr could only hope that this ballet they performed worked. _Hiding in plain sight_ , Malik had told them, was the key in this situation. They could not risk their enemies to suspect a thing, not with the handover being scheduled for the next morning and Robert having their kids.

They all were anxious, Altaїr could sense this and a part of him already questioned his own sanity. He was no thug. He was no fighter. He was a fucking dancer! He danced! He knew ballet! He jumped and twirled and did all that fancy girly stuff and was elegant as fuck, but he was no fighter and he was no killer. Why was he here? Malik showed him a few things, alright, but he could not even hope to survive if someone was to shoot at him or attack him with any weapon for that matter! He was doomed.

He was fucking dead!

In the darkness of the back of the van, he felt Malik grabbing his hand lying between the two of them sitting silently side by side. Oh, the silence was deafening him, but Malik's presence gave him one moment to regain his senses and to calm down just enough to concentrate. To concentrate on his training. Malik showed him how to disarm someone, he showed him how to defend himself with bare hands. It was not much, but it needed to be enough.

Kadar was already checking the equipment one last time, while Edward was talking in a low voice with Ezio in the front. Haytham's face could best be described to be made of stone, while he sat across from them on the other side of the van, changing into the same black clothes they all were and shedding his suit like a snake its skin.

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It happened in the blink of a moment or at least it seemed that way. Darim operated the intercom and started wailing for the guard to come for Connor had hurt himself really badly in the shower. _"He's bleeding!"_ The child had screamed and even managed to draw a few tears to make it more real. Altaїr would not have an easy time with such an actor as a child that was for sure - that was of course only if Connor would manage to reunite father and son again.

He only had a nanosecond as it seemed, when he heard how the code was entered into the electronic padlock on the other side of the door before the door was being opened and the guard marched in. Darim's little act was perfect and so was Tazim's when the guard stepped into the room and noticed the frightened and crying children, clearly in shock about their injured babysitter.

"Fockin' hell!" The guy moaned as he stomped towards the bathroom door without closing their cell door first. "He kills me if this Kenway brat dies!" As soon as the man was far enough inside the room Connor lunged at him and Tazim and Darim just jumped behind the bed to get out of the way completely. The guard clearly did not expect to be overwhelmed by a nineteen-year-old kindergarten teacher, but Connor war not called a bear for no reason. He hardly used his strength on anyone apart from his instructor, but he was very much capable of knocking someone out at least. Connor jumped him and pulled him in a chokehold so fast he could, while the guard struggled to survive but was ultimately overwhelmed by him and the force he was using on him.

Connor did not expect it to be that easy, but the guy seemed to be kind of a low light as for the way he was slowly sinking to the floor, his face already a slight purple, when Connor released him. It had been one quiet method to knock him out and maybe that would really buy them some time until the other guards would notice their disappearance.

He was sorry for making the kids witnessing this, but when he dragged the guard behind the door of his room, Darim peeked up from behind the bed again. He was not even crying, only looking wide-eyed at Connor, when the kindergarten teacher dumped the guard behind the door. For one moment, he thought about tying the guy up, but then again it would be detected that something was wrong in here anyway in a few minutes so it wouldn’t really make any difference other than the fact that it would rob them of their precious time and they could not afford wasting time. Gently he waved for Tazim and Darim to join him and took their hands before he carefully peeked out of the door. No one was around, but that was to be expected for someone would have come in already otherwise.

"Come on, guys and keep calm. I'll get us out of here." He felt bad for promising something like that, but he did not have any other choice than this, right? He needed to give them kids hope, no matter if it was the right thing to do or not. Silently he left the room with the kids by his side and slowly made his way down the hallway. He would have loved to walk on bare feet only for it would be more silent, but now he needed to take greater care on his feet and on his surroundings. He needed to listen as closely as possible to the world around them, as he slowly pressed forwards, the shivering children by his sides. Their cell was on the end of that very hallway and when Connor reached the opening that led into the maze of different hallways he stopped shortly and listened concentrated, slowly peeking around one corner, then the next. No one to see.

Could it really be that they were that lucky?

Connor tried to memorize the way he came through when he was taken to Robert, so he would be able to find that staircase they needed to go down. Of course, they also could try to move upstairs and maybe into a hypothetical crowd of gamblers to hide in plain sight, but this would probably be much too dangerous, especially with those two children by his side. Oh, he was sure, that he would be able to find another way out, as soon as they would be down there and maybe even little Tazim could help him find it.

His heart was pounding so loud in his ears when they entered the next corridor that he had almost not heard the door in front of them being opened. Quickly he shoved the kids back to where they came from and pressed his back flatly against the wall, praying to all gods he could name that whoever decided to leave one of the rooms would not come their way. He could hear the footsteps of a person approaching and closed his eyes, positive that they already lost the game, but when the person was not more than two feet away from them a voice somewhere called for the approaching person and they turned around to walk back.

Connor took one deep, deep breath and when he heard the door being closed, that had previously been opened, he started running and pulled the kids with him. He knew they would not be able to keep up with him and his arms felt strained from dragging their little bodies with him, but he could not stop because of that and when they turned the next corner he already saw the staircase.

"HEY!" A voice bellowed from behind them so loud Connor almost jumped, instead, he kept running, bursting through the metal door of the staircase and started to run down. Tazim almost stumbled and fell and when Connor paused to get the boy going again, the guard was already at their heels.

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"This is your last chance to turn back." Malik whispered way too softly right by his ear, while Altaїr just tried to concentrate on the vibration of the road beneath them and on the little bumps making the tires jump ever so often. They left the busy streets of New York quite a while ago already and for a few minutes now, they were driving down a more undeveloped road leading a little bit to the outskirts of town.

"No way." He sighed and finally forced himself to look at Malik. It was quite weird thinking back to how all that started. It started with him damaging Malik's car, didn’t it? Or did it already start with a bag of _Lucky Charms_ from the corner shop? And now they were here, sitting together in a black Van on their way to get their children safely home. Just two fathers, fearing for their kids' lives. Maybe … Maybe they were more than this, but right now Altaїr didn’t want to ponder about it, no matter how good it had felt sleeping next to Malik in his big ass bed last night.

He noticed the way Malik looked at him, though, and how he bit down on his bottom lip as if he was biting back some comment he would probably regret if he was to speak it out loud. Maybe it was better this way. They needed to focus solely on getting their kids back, everything else they could discuss another day. And then again, would there really be another day together? Altaїr should distance himself from Malik and this time for real. Maybe he should go back to Boston and move into his grandma's house.

Then he thought back on his last encounter with his uncle. They rarely really talked about Altaїr's … well … _feelings_ and Bill really were not the most empathetic guy, but then, when Altair explained to him the situation with Darim and Tazim and Connor, he took him to the side (after lecturing him) and told him that he _liked_ his new boyfriend. Not to mention that Altaїr denied Malik being his boyfriend, but his uncle had not said anything else in that matter and left Altaїr with the weird feeling of approval and confusion.

He really was attracted to dangerous people and he knew that - Maria was the best example for this after all. So, even if he would give Malik the benefit of a doubt, even if he would try to make it work, how long could this work out really? He was a dangerous man, way more dangerous than Maria ever could be and Altaїr needed to put his children's best interest first - no matter what.

"So, we are going through the air vents." Altaїr sighed. He needed to focus. _Focus, Altaїr, for god's sake!_ "Are you sure we won't get stuck?"

"Kadar's calculations are never wrong. My brother might be an idiot from time to time, but he knows his calculations and his equipment so don’t worry about that." Malik turned his gaze to his brother sitting at his laptop and click-clacking on the keyboard, accompanied by Haytham's very disapproving looks. "But please, Altaїr, you must promise me that you stick to the plan and don’t stray. It's important that-"

"HOLY FUCKING COW!"

Ezio smashed down on the breaks, the car jerked and bucked like a wild horse and then came to a screeching hold on the pebble stone path.

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Connor let go of the kids when the guard lunged at him and to his incredible luck, Darim acted quick like a lightning bolt, when he grabbed little Tazim's arm and dragged him with him farther down the staircase and away from the two men wrestling for the upper hand. Connor felt already exhausted even though they did not run all that long or far, but the anxiety and the adrenaline were almost killing him! When the guard jumped him, he could only shove his own body weight against him to stop himself from falling down the stairs and ultimately break his neck in the process.

The man was broad-shouldered and heavy, but he was not taller than Connor, only stronger built as it came to muscles and Connor knew that he could not stand a chance against this guy for all too long. His next move, balancing on the edge of the step, was risky, but it was worth a try. His grandpa probably would do the same thing. His grandpa always was one for dirty tricks.

The scream ripping through the stairwell was not his, when Connor let himself fall backward and clenched his fists into the fabric of his aggressor's shirt. No, it was the guard stumbling and falling into his doom, when he understood that Connor tricked him, screaming like a moribund man. Connor might not have been stronger than this man, but he was faster and he had the moment of shock and utter terror on his side when he managed to twist his own body around the man's as they fell and maneuvered him under his own body. The fall was short, but all the harder and he heard the ugly sound of breaking bones when the man hit the wall of the staircase with his head first.

It took him one moment to get up again. He was no wizard flying through the air, not even for a second. He too was hurt, but a lot less than this poor bastard hitting every little step with one of his bones. Connor could feel his back aching at the spot where he himself hit the edge of a step and when he got up his left ankle screamed at him, but there was no time to complain. Surely, someone must have heard the scream and the turmoil. He could only hope to find the kids fast when he stumbled down farther and quickly arrived at the end of the stairwell. He found them cowering underneath the stairs, but when they saw him they ran for him and threw themselves into his wide-open arms.

"We thought you w-was dead!" Tazim hiccupped, his face already wet from the thick tears streaming down his face. A part of him was concerned over the fact that Tazim already knew what _dead_ meant, but then again the boy knew that his mother was dead and he almost did stumble into a bloodbath when his nanny had been killed.

"There are bad men out there!" Darim whispered. Oh, the boy was not at all calm. Connor could feel him shiver in his arms, but he was not crying. He felt like Darim would only rarely cry for that matter. By now, he knew the boys quite well and he knew that Darim liked to swallow his own fear a lot only to make his father feel better. He was a tough cookie and he reminded Connor a lot of himself after he lost his mother.

"I'm okay." He promised, brushing through Tazim's curls and patting Darim's back gently. "What bad men?"

"I don’t know!" Darim whispered then. "But they are inside the parking lot moving about and talking."

Connor could not help but curse inwardly. They were so fucking close! The door to the parking lot was right there! All they needed to do was to walk through there and find the fucking exit! "This can't be true!" Connor hissed but did his best to keep his voice down, before he slowly approached the door and peeked through the little window of the door. He could see shadows moving in the dim light of the underground parking lot and there was no way to tell how many of them there were or how far the exit was from this door.

All they could do was to risk it. Well, that was at least what he would do if he would be alone. He was not able to tell if those folks had guns ready to blast a whole into his brain or the children. He could not possibly endanger them like this. But he needed to do at least _something_. It was only a question of time until someone would follow their trail down here and by then they needed to be gone! Should they go up instead and try to get away like this? No. no, no, no, no, no! It had to be this way! This was the way his grandfather would choose, he was sure about this. He just needed to be careful and quick and stealthy … and all of that with two little children by his side.

For just a second he leaned against the wall next to the door and just listened. He tried to listen to the sounds of those men's shoes scraping about over the pavement of the parking lot; he tried to figure out some sort of pattern in which they moved. It was like a dance. Yes, he was sure of that. The only problem was that he had never been one for dancing.

"It is like a waltz." Darim whispered closely by his side and when Connor looked at the boy, Darim had his ear pressed to the door and to the small slit between door and doorframe.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well… I think it's like a waltz! The way they are moving! Daddy used to watch a lot of videos and movies with dancing in it. One time he even taught me how to dance waltz!" Darim exclaimed quietly. Yes, Connor could picture Altaїr twirling his son around like this, going _one, two, three, four! - one, two, three, four!_ While Darim was squeaking and squealing in joy and- _wait a second!_ He stopped breathing and just listened.

"Oh, you are clever…" He sighed and ruffled through Darim's short hair. It _was_ like a waltz. They were walking _one-two-three-four!_ -steps in one direction, then they turned and walked again four steps in the other direction. Still, he did not know if they were patrolling in there or if they were searching for something.

Again, Connor looked through the window when he knew that the guard nearest to them was turning away again. He could spot a can of soda lying around next to the tire of the nearest parked car. "Alright, here is the plan: We crouch behind that car, when the guard turns away next, then I'll grab this can over there and throw it as far away as I can against a car. They will go for the sound as soon as the alarm system of one of the cars will turn on and then we run - but _quietly_!"

It was not even a good plan. It was dangerous. It was insane. Still, it was all he could come up with when he did not want to risk being shot or injured in any way. The kids still trusted him and his insanity, as it seemed. Maybe they just wanted to get out of here so badly that they did not even see the risks. Well, they were only four-years-old, to them his plan probably sounded brilliant.

They sure did not know how fucking afraid he was in reality.

He listened carefully for the _one-two-three-four_ in their direction, before he gently opened the door and prayed it would not make a sound. Then the guard turned, his shoes scraping over the pavement and Connor slipped through the crack just when the guard started walking. They were quick. The kids hurried to the car near the door and hid behind it just when Connor silently closed the door and joined them - and just in time. He stifled his breath when the guard turned again and moved back. It was weird and he still did not understand. Were those guys waiting for them? Or for their family going on a rescue mission?

Anyway, he grabbed the can and noticed it was still closed and full and heavy. Perfect. Carefully Connor peeked over the trunk of the car that was parked in a horizontal line to the wall and the door. There were a lot of expensive looking cars around and they surely did have alarm systems built into them. He also could spot a few door around the walls but nowhere there was a sign he could read. The exit was probably in the general direction of the right wing, but they could only move left for there he spotted the least amounts of flashlights dancing about.

 _Okay, Connor. Now is the time. You need to stop thinking too much, just do it!_ Well, that was a lot easier said than done, but he looked at the kids one last time and they nodded, then he waited until the moment was right and threw the can as far as he could to the right side of the parking lot. First, there was just a loud _clang!_ Then the clanking of the can falling to the ground and rolling across the pavement. This was the first thing to draw the attention of the guards and then finally the alarm system of the hit car sprung to life and caused havoc and confusion. When the guards started running in the direction of the rampaging car, Connor and the kids started running to the other side, always in the shadows of the parked cars, until they were able to open one door and slip into the darkness behind it.

"I can't believe that worked!" Connor huffed, his back pressed to the door in his back. He almost expected someone to wait behind that door, but instead, there was nothing but darkness.

"Where are we?" Tazim suddenly hiccupped. "It's so dark I am afraid, Connor!"

"I don’t know, but don’t worry, I'll figure something out." Again, easier said than done. They were probably in some kind of storage or simply just an empty room! For a moment, he tried to search for the light switch, but as soon as he found it, he drew back his fingers. No, it was too dangerous for the guards could spot the light coming through from underneath the door. Carefully he drew his hands over the walls, surrounding them, while the kids grabbed his jeans tightly. He felt only the wall in his back and to his left, on his right side was an opening of some sorts. Could they possibly just have entered another hallway? There was no weirder spot for a hallway, was there? Connor walked forward, one, two, three steps, then he could feel the next naked wall. They could only turn right or so it seemed.

"Okay … come on, guys. Don’t let go of my jeans, alright?" The kids made noises in agreement and walked behind him, as Connor moved into the opening to his right, carefully dragging his hands over the naked cold walls, every step weighed carefully for there still was the fear of falling down some stairs. And his care soon proofed to be wise, for his next step nearly sent him tumbling down a few steps again. It was only three narrow steps leading down to the next level and when Connor was sure that the kids were still in one piece behind him, his fingers brushed again against a light switch. This time he did switch on the light. Maybe this was not wise, but he did not hear anything that would make him suspect that they were not alone.

The light illuminated just one narrow hallway, just wide enough so some full-grown men could walk through it one at a time. There were nothing on the walls, only white painted bricks and a gray ceiling - just as gray as the floor. The only way was forward, so they walked on and on and on and on. Connor had no clue how far this hallway - this tunnel - went before they came across three steps again, but he felt like they probably left behind the turf already. There was no way that they could possibly be still under the turf. Was this some kind of not so very secret secret-passage? It was really hard to tell and maybe he did not want to know for what this tunnel was usually used.

They walked up the few steps and came to another metal door. This one was a lot heavier than the first, but he was able to open it anyway. Really! What kind of criminals were those, leaving all their secret doors unlocked like this? Either those people were really not good at their profession or they wanted to bait them into walking right into their trap.

It was a little bit colder inside this new area, but when Connor closed the door behind him, he knew why immediately. And finally, he knew where they were. "What's this?" Darim huffed and scrunched up his face into a slight grimace.

"Its … Well, it’s a meat factory." And hopefully, they would not run into fucking Majd Addin by any chance. Fuck. Well, maybe they were lucky, maybe something wanted them to get away. Why would Majd Addin be in his meat factory anyway that late?

Down here in the basement, the meat locker was located and the door was ajar, which would explain the cold down here. The whole room was tiled with suspiciously clean white tiles. To his right-hand side was another steal door located, while the meat locker was on the opposite side and to his left was another staircase leading upstairs. It was quiet down here and just a few hooks were dangling down the ceiling from strong iron chains on a slide rail. Hooks which were usually needed to hang meat. The slide rail was arranged in a half circle coming from the backroom where the meat was probably prepared before it was attached to the hooks and driven to the front. There were two openings on each end of the half circle with plastic curtains through which the meat was usually pushed to the front room and beneath the hooks was a channel installed to catch the blood. Right now, all the hooks were empty but Connor could see the hint of a light behind the plastic curtain, so he pressed his finger to his lips when the little ones looked up at him and gestured towards the metal staircase.

"Silent!" He whispered and shooed the kids upstairs. Those kids really gave their best to not make any noise and just when Tazim and Darim reached the top of the staircase, Connor heard the hooks behind them move. Only for one moment, he paused and looked down to see how the empty hooks were vanishing behind the left curtain, then, after a small moment a body appeared. First, it only was a shadow, then the body hit the curtain and was pushed to the front. It was a naked man hanging from the hook pushed through his jaw. He was still twitching and flailing, was still alive.

Connor moved faster after he heard the steps from behind the curtains moving towards the metal door separating backroom and front and just when he himself reached the first step, the door was opened.

"Oh, look who we've got here!" Connor was almost sure that this voice would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was not the first time he heard Majd Addin's voice. In fact, it had been Majd forcing him to behave when he had been with Robert. Now there was no Robert to stop Majd from finally doing what he was known for. Connor started running, grabbed the kids' little hands and just ran towards the small door near the wooden gates. It was locked. Fucking hell. The last door between them and their freedom was locked. He saw the dark night sky through the big factory windows above them. Connor shot back a glance to the staircase and saw Majd approaching casually before he spotted the gap between the wooden gate and the earthly ground. Through this gate, the trucks normally came to get their deliveries and Connor was adamant never to eat meat from cheap supermarkets again.

He did not have the time to look around even more and he did not want to really have a look at the meat grinder anyway (or at the various flat conveyors. "Quick!" He yelled and gestured towards the gap on the floor. It was not wide enough for him to crawl through it, but the kids could easily manage this. "Run!" And the kids did as they were told. Darim grabbed Tazim's hand and he ran for dear life.

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There was one moment in his life Altaїr always came back to. When he was devastated or desperate or felt as if he was all alone in this brutal and unforgiving place they called their world and society, this was the one thing he always came back to. The one thing that kept him going, no matter what. Maybe even the one thing that was responsible for him being still alive.

Never in his life would he forget the moment, when he had held his son for the very first time. It was a feeling he never experienced again. Even with Sef. Of course, it had been incredible holding Sef for the first time, but holding Darim for the first time and seeing his little scrunched up face, hearing him yawn, seeing his blue eyes looking at him, was this one thing he never experienced like this again. When he had been given Darim, when the tired old nurse laid him into his father's arms, he had felt as if he was holding the entire world and all its potential and happiness and luck. It had not mattered that he had been too young. At least not for his son. His son had looked at him with wide eyes and for the first time, Altaїr had not felt like a complete failure. For his son, he had been enough and since that moment had passed Altaїr had tried all in his might to prove to the world and to Darim that he was worthy of this gift.

When the van stopped, Malik almost stumbled over him in an attempt to jump out of the vehicle first and when they ran for their kids, standing in the middle of a dirty street with tears clinging to their little blotched faces, Altaїr knew that Malik felt the very same way as he did. It was easy to judge a book by its cover. It was easy calling Malik a mobster and a murderer and a criminal, but it was hard to see the loving father behind that façade. Even harder it was to call him all those nasty things after one was able to see the gentle heart pounding in his chest.

He almost crushed Darim's frail body when he flung his arms around the boy and pressed kiss, after kiss, after kiss to his face. He did not care for how his son managed to get away and how ridiculously perfect the timing had been. He simply did not care. He had his son in his arms again and that was all that mattered to him.

But Darim tried to free himself from his father, pulling on his black jacket with his tiny hands. "Connor needs help!" The kid hiccupped. "There is a bad man coming!"

"What bad man?" Altaїr asked. Oh, he felt so ridiculous, fighting against the thick lump in his throat, when he spoke. He felt like he was about to cry – and he would have cried if it was not for the concern and worry and fear in his son's face. Right now he wanted to be selfish and to leave Connor be. He did not want to care about his son's ex-kindergarten teacher, but he knew it was not right to act this way. After all, it was probably thanks to Connor that he was able to hold his son again.

"Where is he?" A dark voice thundered somewhere in the space behind him and he did not need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to Haytham Kenway. The man had jumped out of the car after them, his nostrils flaring like an enraged bull and his father joined them when he jumped out of the passenger's seat. Altaїr looked around, but he could not see a trace, not even a hint of Connor being around somewhere. The only thing he spotted was the large building of a meat factory appearing out of the darkness like a mighty shadow lurking about.

Tazim clung to his father's chest like a little baby monkey, crying insanely into his jacket and Malik was only rubbing soothing circles onto his back. It was Kadar, the boy's uncle, who took Tazim, as Malik turned to his younger brother to give him Tazim. Maybe it was a bit cold, maybe even a little bit heartless, but when Darim gestured towards the meat factory and when a loud scream ripped through the night, Malik, Altaїr and both Kenways started running towards the building, leaving the kids behind.


	25. a new day's dawn

The last Connor saw of the two children was their feet vanishing on the other side of the wooden gate, before Majd Addin's voice sounded again from the staircase. "Hush, hush, little puppy dog!" He was not exactly a big man or a really muscular guy, but he was strong and Connor already experienced his strength to know that he himself needed to be quick if he wanted to have a chance against the other man. He did not know what Majd was going to do with him, but he needed to buy time, at least enough so the children could find shelter somewhere where Majd could not find them. That was his goal and all he cared for right in that moment, although he was frightened himself.

Connor was no killer. He never killed and he would not kill him for sure, but nothing would stop Majd from torturing him, that was also a truth he knew by heart. He had seen photos of Majd Addin's victims, he was well aware of his impending doom. Majd Addin would torture and kill him and sent him piece by piece back to his father and grandfather - Tomorrow his left foot, then his hand, then the rest of him with every passing day.

For a moment, he contemplated trying to throw himself against the metal door leading outside, as long as it would take the door to break under his weight, but he knew, it would not work and he was still injured and not in the right condition to try something stupid like this with Majd so close at his heels anyway. Instead, he looked around and he found the catwalks above the large machines, and before he could even really think about what he was going to do, he started running towards the metal staircase and bolted up the stairs. The catwalks were swaying underneath him, seemingly only secured by large steel cables attached to the sturdy metal pillars along the ceiling.

Connor never had a problem with great heights and now he really was not all that high up, but already he could feel his stomach clench for the lack of safety up here. Who in their right mind would even build something like this? It was incredible dangerous operating those large machines from those catwalks - and half of those machines, Connor had not even a clue what to make with them. He probably did not even want to know.

"Well, well, look at this. Now we are all alone. Just you and me, isn’t that nice?" Majd Addin hummed and Connor heard his footsteps resonating from the metal grits of the catwalk under his own feet. He was able to look through the catwalk down to the ground and was quite sure by now that he did not want to fall, but maybe he could make Majd fall. For that, of course, he needed to get closer to this fucker for once and that was something he probably should rather not do. He saw the glistening steel of a large knife usually used for cutting meat and maybe even severing bones, in Majd's right hand and stopped where he was at the end of the catwalk. Behind him there only was the railing securing the workers normally from falling into the bone crusher underneath this very catwalk. Connor could not help but cling to the railing to his left and right with both of his hands. He felt the sweat dripping of his skin.

"It would be damn wise of you, boy, if you would just follow me back into your cell until the big man Robert decides that you can go back to your family to get your ass kissed by your grandpa." Majd snickered when he stepped closer and the catwalk was already swaying a bit uncomfortably for Connor's liking.

"Or else?" Connor hissed, his brown eyes focus on the broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man in front of him. "I think we can both agree on the fact that we know that I won't go home anyway soon, can we?"

"Clever boy." Majd stopped, a wide grin spreading across his face. There was still a little bit of blood of his former victim spattered across his front and his clothes. "Of course I can push you into that bone mill over there too, but I prefer to have a little bit more fun with you. I always dreamt about toying with the Kenway brat."

He needed to buy time for the boys. Of course, he was not very eager to die in this fucking meat factory, but if some extra-terrestrial being decided that this was his way to go, and then again, it was okay with him as long as it meant the kids would be safe, right? Right. "I sense some friction between you and my family." He muttered and grabbed the railing a little bit harder. He did not have a weapon – again. Fuck. He should've at least grabbed _something_! All he did have was his hands and his own strength and Majd Addin did have a fucking meat cleaver! However, what if he would be able to provoke Majd enough so he would fall right into his trap? All he needed to do was to provoke him enough to lunge at him and if he would manage to get away, fast enough the guy would tumble over the railing and fall into his death. Right? Well, that at least was a plan worthy of his grandfather.

"You really are clever. I have - what do you call it? - Ah, yes. I have _unfinished business_ with your dear father, I'm afraid. Oh, you won't believe the joy I felt when I heard that Robert's stupid minions managed to capture you too, little puppy dog! It was not even the plan! The plan was to get Malik's little maggot, instead, we got the big fish! But Robert is too stupid to see oh all those possibilities, I'm afraid. All he does is doing whatever his itty-bitty wife asks of him! He could have so much more if he would just grow himself some balls!"

"Well, then why even following him? Why working for a dimwit like him?" Connor hissed. He did not really care what his father might have done to this guy because for the largest part of his young life he had been better off staying out of all this as good as he could.

Majd threw his hands in the air exasperated and when he slammed them down on the railing again the whole catwalk shook, so big was the force behind this. "Because he has the fucking money and influence I need! Are you really that stupid, boy? With a guy like Robert we could've fucked you and your friends over and get the whole underworld of New York and Boston under our command, but Robert is not the fucking leader he always bragged about being!"

Connor snickered. "What a shame that you don’t have the balls to do anything against him then, is it?"

Majd growled at him, his jaw clenched and his teeth bared. Oh, he was an easy one. He clearly did not have his temper under any control whatsoever, that was clear as daylight. He could hear the screeching of car tires and overstrained breaks in the distance and his heart was racing for just a moment. What if the kids were hit by a fucking truck right now, while he was in here discussing and arguing with this fucker?

Majd shot a glance over his left shoulder towards the gates, clearly alarmed by the turmoil outside on the road and Connor acted before he could think twice about it. He lunged at the man and hit the knife out of his hand so it fell scattering down to the ground beneath and out of reach, but before he could attack Majd properly, the man shoved him backward and kicked him in his stomach. Connor yelped but kept his balance before he braced himself for the punches clear to come. The catwalk was swaying so much that he really felt like he was on a roller coaster or a swing boat going back and forth, up and down.

Majd, however, did not seem to be bothered by it even in the slightest, when he threw himself at Connor again and the half-native boy did not have another chance to try and to dodge him as good he could and this time Majd's own stupidity came into play for him. After he kicked him again, Connor was by the end of the catwalk, holding his hurting stomach, and when he now jumped at him Connor simply ducked down and sent Majd tumbling against the railing behind him like this. Of course, it was not enough to send him over it, not yet, but the swaying of the catwalk was, while Connor could only cling for dear life to the railing itself.

Majd fell with a horrible scream ripping through the building, as he fell into the bone crusher beneath them. Connor really wanted to laugh or at least watch him fall to his doom, but he had a hard time keeping his balance himself and when he rose to his feet because he wanted to run to the door and look if the kids were all right, he himself stumbled against the railing for the massive swaying of the catwalk. At least he managed not to fall but stumbled forward, grabbing and clinging onto the railing, and towards the fucking staircase that was not even attached to the catwalk properly. He was not sure if Majd really was dead, but at least he would have a hard time getting out of the bone crusher with at least a few broken bones, if not a broken neck. The fall was much deeper than one would actually assume, but at least the machine was not running, so Majd had a chance of surviving this.

Connor really wanted to say he wanted to kill him for all the things he did in his life after he told his family before that this guy needed to be stopped, but then again he did not want to have his blood on his hands at the same instant. He did not want to kill. He did not want to be a part of all this and that was the sole crux he was dealing with since he discovered who his family really was!

Just when he reached the end of the metal gritty stairs, he heard something crush against the metal door from the outside of the factory and stopped like electrocuted by the metal of the stairs. Another sudden jolt made him almost crouch behind another machine and then the door was finally thrown from its probably rusty hinges, only to slam down with a loud scattering noise onto the pavement and then sliding down the small stairs leading up to the door.

" _CONNOR_!" He really was not sure, when the last time was that he felt so overwhelmed by the sudden jolt of joy hearing his grandfather's voice - The same grandfather who told him for at least three years that he was a pirate before his father made him come out with the truth about their family. And now, when he run towards the old man, he thought that he would rather still believe him a pirate than a criminal and killer.

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Robert de Sable really was one ugly piece of trash, now that they came face to face even more so than before and even more than Altaїr remembered. It was not as if they would have bolted into the hotel room like an army of Vikings, no matter how much he really would like to say this. They simply knocked and Maria had opened them, no matter the time.

It was weird now sitting with them in their suite like civilized adults. It was weird seeing Maria and Robert like this together. A married couple, when all Altaїr could think about was how much pain this prick caused him since they first met as teenagers. Maybe he even found some kind of glee in the fact of having caught Altaїr's son. Robert had hated his guts for banging the woman he was promised to marry one day and even got her pregnant twice while banging her. Since he knew that Maria married him, a part of him had been concerned that Sef might not be his, but then again all he really needed to do was to look at the baby to know it was his. She would not have left Sef behind anyway if he would be Roberts's kid. And now, no matter _if_ he was Robert's son and not his, he would not give him away anyway. Sef was his and his alone.

"So, I believe we can agree on the fact that you do not pose any threat now, can we?" Malik asked and he was so surprisingly calm, that Altaїr for one moment thought Malik left a part of his being behind when they entered the hotel. There was still a little bit of blood clinging to his hands, but all Altaїr really wanted to do (after beating the living shit out of Robert) was going back to his kids. Nothing more. Only this. He wanted to hold the both of them as close as possible and just calm down. Right now Darim was safe, he knew that for sure. He was with Desmond, Tazim, Kadar, Adéwalé, and Liam. All of them would protect his little ones.

Still, the moment when Edward managed to unhinge the metal door and when they first bolted into the meat factory, he would probably never forget. He wanted to say that he would never look at Connor the same way than before, but this was not true at all. A part of him still was disgusted, though it had not really been Connor's fault. A part of him still was frightened. A part of him wished he could have been the one to rip Majd Addin apart, if only for the fact that he worked with Robert and thus endangered his son.

Maybe Robert was only a little bit intimidated by the figures towering before him after he just got a bloody nose for trying to mess with a guy like Malik. Of course, Malik and Altaїr did not come alone. Maria was still sitting by her husband's side in complete silence, just like the good wife she was. If the circumstances would be different, if Maria would not be in her nightgown and dressing gown with her hair half up and curled around her face, and if they would not be in some hotel suite but a big ass mansion layered with marble and gold, she would look like a queen floating above all of them.  Despite her current state of appearance, she held her chin high and her shoulders raised. Perhaps Robert should consider making her the head of the de Sable family in the future. Next to her, he looked like a bald headed elementary school kid. She was looking at them as if it would be the most normal thing to have their hotel suite raided like this in the early morning hours.

In front of the large French windows, Altaїr could already see the sun rising on the horizon. It was quite poetic, Altaїr thought, but maybe this thought only came to him because he was so very tired and exhausted by the last days and the events of this night. Yet, maybe was this sunrise a metaphor for his life finally coming to a good start again. It was a sunrise for his rebirth, for his new start in life. From now on, he would be a different man. However, maybe he just was tired.

Behind Malik and him were Ezio, Haytham, and Edward and without turning around to them, he was sure that their faces looked like those of people no one would want to mess with. A part of him was flabbergasted that the Kenway men wanted to be here instead of watching over Connor, but then again they were not just a grandfather and a father, they were the head and the crown prince of one of the most influential mafia families of North America.

Altaїr knew how they must feel, but now they needed to take care of Robert - and with that of Maria too.

"Majd Addin is dead." Malik stated, his eyes cold as a fucking ice block on the north Atlantic and for a moment he thought back to the moment they busted into the meat factory only hours ago to find Connor practically unharmed before they detected the whimpering pathetic mess that had been Majd Addin, this infamous torturer. A few of his bones had been broken by what looked to have been one nasty fall into one nasty machine, but at least he had been still alive. That was until Haytham Kenway pushed a button and the machine he had lain in sprung to life. Altaїr was sure that the screams of the man being crushed to death would never vanish from his mind. "Jubair is dead, your good friend Abu'l Nuqoud is dead and your little minions Abbas and Swami are dead. I believe all you have left of your friends are Talal, Garnier - that poor bastard -, Tamir, Sibrand and Wilhelm."

Robert cleared his throat and Maria gently dug her nails into his legs, clearly trying to get him to focus and to _man-up_ in front of them. "That seems to be true and in my book, these men are still on my side."

"They are indeed. Well, I would not count that much on Sibrand though." Malik smiled as if they were just good old friends talking with one another over a glass of red wine. Altaїr did not know all too much about those people Malik just mentioned and he was not so sure that he did want to know about them. He was already well enough informed about Abu'l, Sibrand, Abbas, Swami and Majd Addin. They were the scum of the earth quite literally and there was not much else to be expected by the other five members of Robert's inner circle. They were cowards and the most rotten individuals Altaїr had ever heard of. "I believe one of my informants spotted Sibrand just an hour ago at the airport trying to get on a flight back to Germany and thus back to his pal Wilhelm. So, you see, I doubt that Wilhelm will continue to support you from now on. Robert, my dear friend, your boat is sinking and we all know that."

"So then what? Go on and just kill me and my wife! That’s what I would do!" Maria did not even look at him, but Altaїr saw how she was clenching her fists and bit down on her tongue in anger.

"Death is too good for you." Altaїr hissed when he got up. He was restless, but he knew that he did not look like he was when he started strolling around through the suite. He took his sweet time looking at everything. He saw this a billion times already on TV and in real life simply by observing people like Malik or Haytham. It was a gesture of power and superiority, a sign not to fuck with him. He never killed and he was never going to kill, but the anger boiling deep down inside of him made him wanting to cut Robert's throat with the mail opener lying around on a small wooden desk.

"Then what? I lost the game! What do you want? Do you want Maria back? Take her!" Robert shrieked and jumped from the spot he just occupied. There was nothing left of the man Altaїr met before or of the man sitting behind a laptop screen threatening them and their children.

"Wow, look at that, Maria. I think you guys really deserved each other, don’t you think so too? What a great man he is!  What a hero! What a selfless husband! Was he really worth it to leave your kids behind? Was he really worth the danger he put Darim into?"

"He did not want to take Darim!" Maria yelled when she turned to face him, her face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. "It was an accident!"

"But he did take him." Malik growled. "Going after someone's children … Well, I must say, Robert, that’s weak. You should have killed us the old-fashioned way. You know? Like a car bomb, just like you tried to kill my brother with. By the way, he is still mad about his car, it was brand new at that time. Now you got yourself, even more, enemies and for all, I know the Kenways are not as merciful as I am. You see, I heard stories about  the great captain Edward Kenway flaying his enemies alive while they were bound to the foremast of his favorite ship and then severing them limb by limb to feed them to the sharks."

"Oh, don’t flatter me, boy. I was a lot younger back then." Edward stated dryly and calmly but his face remained stoic and dark like a thundercloud. At least Altaїr did not question that he was indeed very much capable of doing what Malik just said. "Now I don’t flay them anymore. I castrate them - everyone who fucks with my grandchild - and feed them their genitals before I rip their intestines out and make them watch as I feed them to Ezio's dogs. Swami did not like that so much I am afraid."

At least Robert did have the decency to look as pale as a freshly died ghost. "W-What do you want from me?" Robert hissed. "If you want money, I can-"

"Oh didn’t you want _our_ money?" Haytham growled and Robert flinched, turning around to face the other man. He looked like someone drifting in the middle of the ocean surrounded by sharks. "I believe so, at least. I believe I remember correctly that _you_ wanted to get your grubby little hands on _our_ finances and equipment, which would very much indicate that you yourself don’t have any money."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Robert!" Maria growled. "Would you grow some balls already?"

"We want you to leave this country and go back to France, though I believe you are a wanted man over there, aren't you? It's either you leaving behind your businesses here and going back to your country with your wife or Mr. Kenway and I will have a little bit of fun with the both of you. I believe Altaїr can think about something for you guys too so that you won't get bored in our care."

Malik's words were clear and nothing in his voice gave the both of them the prospect of hope. For Altaїr this was not enough. A part of him wanted to see Robert dead. He did not know if he would want Maria to die, but he wanted her as far away as possible at least. Oh, he knew what it was like to lose a parent or in his case both of them and he did not want his sons to go through this. Rather he would have her living and able to communicate with them than dead. But then again there was no way Malik or Haytham would let them go without having their revenge, right? There surely was a catch to this ultimatum.

Robert did not even look at Maria, instead, he turned to Malik again, his face pleading. "P-Please, I am sure we can find another way!"

Altaїr could not stand it any longer. The moment he was close to Robert again, he grabbed his head from behind and pulled it back. It would be much easier if he would have hair. "You fucking piece of shit can consider yourself lucky that we make you this kind offer after you kidnapped our sons and threatened their lives. But of course, I can cut off your fucking dick now anyway and feed it to your cock sucking whore of a wife too if you insist."

He did not even know where this was coming from, but he sure as hell meant it. He would do this. He felt it in the core of his soul that he would do something like this if Robert would force him to. Robert stared at him with wide panicked eyes and a grimace that could only best described as the face of someone ready to piss their pants.

Maybe tonight something in him just snapped? Maybe seeing a man being crushed by a machine meant to crush and mill bones (for something), made something in him just snap. And right now he was one hundred percent positive that he would be able to kill this fucker in front of him for all he did to him. Robert and he knew each other since he had been but an awkward teenager. Robert was only a few years older and yet he had been harassing Altaїr and prying on Maria since he could remember meeting Maria with seventeen in High School. He had stolen his girlfriend and mother of his children almost a year ago. He had fed her with his crazy ideas of power and now he was only a pathetic mess ready to feed her to the sharks if that meant saving his own life. Then again, what made him feel this killer instinct right now and right here was not Maria or that she, in fact, left him for this fucker, it was the fact that Robert had the balls to endanger his son, to traumatize him and that he wanted to steal both of his kids from him too.

A family was always the one thing he wanted to have. A family and a place to come home to, to be accepted the way he was. Maybe he just failed to see that he already did have a family before he met Maria. He did have his auntie Margret and his uncle Bill. He did have his late grandmother and his late grandfather, providing him with a wonderful childhood. He did have Desmond and even Shaun. _They_ were his family, but he did not see it.

He would change from now on. He would not let himself get blinded by all the negative things in his life again. He would go back to Boston and move into his grandma's house. He would visit his auntie and his uncle regularly again and thank them for the way they brought them up. He would finally start to show his family the love they deserved and which they always gave him, no matter if he noticed it or understood it.

"Well" Malik rose from his spot with a smile. "I believe he got the message. I have a few of my best employees waiting outside to help the both of you getting ready for your trip back to Paris."

He did not want to go like this. He was not finished with Robert. He wanted to punch the living shit out of him for the things he did, but when Malik flashed him one gloomy look he let go of Robert. He wanted to trust Malik, but it was not easy. He was so enraged, so full of his anger and hurt and he felt like Malik was trying to take away the chance of getting his well-deserved revenge like he was but a kid and Malik stole his candy.

Still, he followed Malik and the other men towards the door. Haytham, Edward, and Ezio were the first to leave the suite and to Altaїr it was an enigma why they seemed so relaxed and so _okay_ with the current situation. Did they not want to get their revenge too? Were they already so cold-hearted bastards? And what about Malik? This was crazy!

When he reached the door, Robert snorted. "I should’ve just killed them right away and piss on them before sending their heads back."

This was it - The straw that broke the camel's back. Altaїr's mind just went blank when he whirled around and lunged at the bald headed man. Before Robert even knew what was happening he crashed through the fucking glass coffee table he was standing at. Altaїr did not care for the glass shards flying around and digging into his own skin, or for the hands trying to pull him back – Maria's hands – when he thundered his fist down into Roberts's ugly face. He wanted to gut him. He wanted to rip him apart, to pull out his intestines and make him watch. And he was shocked about even thinking something like this. He never was a violent man! But now he simply couldn’t control himself. He could not stop himself. All he did was shoving Maria back violently, but he did not care for her stumbling over the chair she previously occupied and falling to the floor in the most ungraceful manner he ever experienced when he went back to punching Robert to a bloody pulp.

He did not kill him. He wished he had. But it had been Malik, who finally pulled him back from Robert when the man was nothing but a wheezing, bloody, disfigured mess lying boneless on the floor. His knuckles hurt, his fists were bloody and Maria's face white in shock, as she watched Altaїr getting back to his feet and being led away by Malik. He did not care for what she thought of all this.

"I believe your claims are nullified now, are they?" Altaїr hissed when he stopped again near the small hallway leading to the door of the suite and shooting one last warning look back at Maria cowering on the floor.

"Yes." Maria hissed and he did give her credit that she was not stammering at all. Maybe she was twice the man Robert should be.

"You will never try to contact my children again, will you?"

"No." Maria promised. Altaїr wished it would sound strained or agonized, but it did not. Maria did not care for her children at all and that was probably the hardest part of all this. It was not so much that she rejected _him_ at one point in their relationship when the both of them finally understood that they simply did not belong together. It was the knowledge of having his children rejected in such a mean and spiteful fashion. She hated his guts so much, she was disgusted by him so much, that she transferred all those feelings even on her own children which she was supposed to love! They were the innocent ones in this situation. No matter if they would have gotten married at some point and then separated or divorced, the kids were not the guilty part in all this and they did not deserve to feel like it. And yet, for the rest of his life, Altaїr would need to explain to them why their mother left them too.

When they left the hotel suite, he thought about the start of their relationship and the way all of this ended. He was positive that she did not really care if Robert would hurt Darim or even kill him. She never cared. But there was one point in their relationship when she _did_ care. Maybe he was stupid like this. Maybe he really was naïve. But he remembered the way she used to look at him and how it made his heart thud-thud-thudding in his chest like a steam engine and how hot his whole body grew when she smiled at him. She really did have the most beautiful smile he ever saw on a girl back then, but now she resembled a witch of one dark fairy tale. She finally showed her most ugly side and he asked himself if he just refused to see her true self all those years or if he had really been blind to it. Maybe he just wanted to love her. Maybe he wanted to be part of this fairy tale. Maybe he wanted to believe that this would be a good thing.

"Why are you so calm? _How_ can you be so fucking relaxed?" Altaїr asked, but his throat felt dry and hoarse and he did not feel satisfied with having Robert punched to the point of being (hopefully) unrecognizable. "He kidnapped your sons' too." He did not care for the way Haytham was looking at him when they left the building and walked towards the car. Haytham Kenway would never be his friend, that was a fact and Altaїr detested the way he behaved since he first met him, but this look he shot him, this look as if he just asked the most ridiculous question, he hated more than anything else about him. It was the same look Maria used to shoot at him, this look saying that they were better than him - better persons and of course better educated, and that he was just scum, just dirt under their expensive Italian leather shoes. Malik never really looked at him like this, at least not after the _Lucky-Charms_ - _incident_.

"Sometimes death and violence are not the right things to choose from if you do have other options at hand." Haytham stated as if it was the most obvious thing and got into the car waiting for them in front of the hotel. Of course, they changed the van to a more appropriate vehicle by now, but for once Altaїr was able to see New York a little more quiet than he normally would. The Kenways liked it big and fancy as he could see now. Although Edward probably would have liked it to drive the black hammer with its expensive beige leather seats (surely handmade in Italy too, just like the shoes a regular Kenway wore) himself, he sat down next to his son, just as Ezio and Malik did. Only Altaїr hesitated to get into the vehicle, but when he did, he felt empty. Empty and utterly exhausted and lost.

"But he would've killed them. He would've not even batted an eyelash! He would've told his minions to kill our sons! To kill fucking four-year-old children!" Altaїr hissed. He really did not feel great. He would have never thought of being capable of something like this.

"That is true." Edward answered. "But tonight we were granted a gift, boy. Our sons are alive and well. It could've been different. He would have killed them for sure, but he chose to wait, probably to use them against us again and then kill them off. Yet they are alive and well because of some godly force – or whatever you like to call it – decided to spare them and enable them to get away just in time. And with that, whatever that way spared _us_ from getting into harm's way too."

"And yet your very own son Haytham decided to kill Majd Addin!" Altaїr explained exhausted and ruffled through his short hair.

Haytham cleared his throat, clearly affronted by that statement, but of course, Altaїr doubted that a guy like Haytham really would be affronted by being called a killer. He clearly did not have a problem with killing someone. "Connor wanted him dead for a long time for all the horrible crimes he committed and he would've meant a threat to us if I would've let him live. I just killed him because Connor would have never done it himself, not even tonight with him at his mercy like this. And I will kill all the other men who had been working with Robert until now."

"And yet you let Robert live!"

"He soon will wish to be dead." Ezio snickered. Malik was silent the whole time, while they were driving through the city. New York had never been appealing to Altaїr. The city was too big, the people too engulfed in their own personal problems. He never liked those colorful bright neon lights everywhere or the buildings so high he could hardly see where they ended. He felt overwhelmed in this city and since he had arrived here, his life spiraled out of control and yet feeling Malik's shoulder bump against his slightly made him feel grounded again.

When they stood in front of Desmond's apartment door, he and Malik, he did not know what to expect really. He felt anxious thinking about having left his children behind once again, but he was sure they were safe here. He felt as if he had not slept for weeks and all he really wanted was to leave all of this mess behind. He did not want to think about Malik, the _Plan B_ , or all those other horrible things he experienced in the past not even yet two months. And yet … it had been quite the adventure, hadn’t it?

The door was being opened after Malik pushed the buzzer and Altaїr felt engulfed in a pair of strong arms nearly crushing him instantly. It took him a moment to realize that it was not Desmond and not even Bill knocking the air out of his lungs. Normally he kept a healthy distance to the British man living with his cousin and refusing to marry him to be a good example to Desmond's nephews, but now he did not have the slightest chance. Shaun, the boring history geek that he was, was a lot stronger than Altaїr always fathomed.

"Oh bloody hell, thank god! I feared for the worst! I thought you would never come back and leave us behind with those children!" The Brit groaned and pressed a really fucking disgustingly wet kiss to his cheek before he let go of him and sent him tumbling into the flat. A part of him was quite sure that this was not the real reason why Shaun decided to assault him like this, but he was too tired to really focus, instead he did what was asked of him and wandered into the living room, slowly and annoyed wiping his cheek clean again.

Bill and Desmond were sitting on the couch, though Desmond looked as if he was ready to doze off this instant, the back of his head resting on the backrest and a pillow in his arms. There was no trace of Darim and Tazim, but Sef was lying in the cot Desmond kept here since Altaїr moved to New York. Somewhere along the lines the little gremlin lost his pacifier and his mouth hung open widely and he was drooling onto the little mattress he was lying on, his plush squirrel by his side. It seemed that no one really cared about plucking his pacifier back in, but then again Sef was not a child waking up crying because of the sudden loss. He could hear Malik talking to Liam and Adé talking in the kitchen and shortly after the two men left the loft.

They found Tazim and Darim in the bedroom, sleeping soundly in the large bed that was normally occupied by Shaun and Desmond, huddled in the soft blankets with the plushies Liam managed to pick up at Malik's place. Altaїr listened half-heartedly to what was happening inside the loft and how Shaun and Desmond prepared the couch in the living room for them to sleep on, but then Altaїr sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He needed a shower desperately, but in actuality, all he really wanted to do was fall down on this very mattress and sleep. Instead of going to take a shower or going to sleep, he gently grabbed his son's little foot sticking out from under the blanket.

"What a mess." Malik sighed but crouched down in front of the bed and thus in front of Altaїr. For one moment Altaїr thought he would lay his chin down on Altaїr's knee, but he didn’t, instead he yawned.

"I still don’t get it." Altaїr replied finally, though he really did not believe Malik would tell him why they decided to let Robert live and just exiled him. What would it bother Robert if he would not be allowed back into the US by them? He hated this country anyway!

"Robert's power lies in the US, Altaїr." Malik finally began, before he got up and sat down next to him. "He has no power in France and he will never have power in France. His family once came to the US for fucking with the wrong kind of people there and though they managed to achieve great power and influence again in Boston, over there they are not so very welcome. It's not only police or the government searching for Robert and his entire family, but the various mafia families his family tried to mess with. And Robert himself? Well, he only came back to the US because he stole a lot of money from one of his pals. As soon as he will set foot on French ground again he is as good as a Deadman walking. He has no chance and those people will not show any mercy with him."

" _We_ shouldn’t have chosen mercy with him." Altaїr insisted.

"Killing someone is not as easy as you say, Altaїr. I usually don’t have a problem with that as you know, but it’s a decision never easy to make. Believe me, Robert will wish that we would have killed him tonight and Maria will do so too. They will spend the rest of their days being hunt down by people more ruthless, more merciless than we are, but that is exactly what differs us from people like Robert and people like Robert fucked with. We are no good guys or heroes in disguise, but at least we still have something left of our humanity. His death over there will be the most painful and the most barbaric you could ever imagine and I will learn about it."

Altaїr did not know what to make of this and he continued to not know even as they were already lying in the living room. Desmond and Shaun just got back their back and finally got the chance to sleep and Bill retreated into the guest bedroom by now. Altaїr was lying on the floor with his son tightly in his arms after Shaun and Desmond prepared them a makeshift bed out of a spare mattress and a lot of blankets while Malik and Tazim (the only real guests here) conquered the couch.

"I am still not satisfied." Altaїr finally murmured, but his voice was heavy and low and he was not even sure if Malik was still awake or not.

"You never are." The man finally replied dryly, but Altaїr could almost hear him grinning while Darim just hummed a little in his sleep and only snuggled closer to his father. "And you never will be. Robert's death might sound appealing to you now, but it is not what you want."

"How can you be so sure about that?" It was hard to even keep his eyes open by now.

"Because I myself experienced it." Malik sighed and Altaїr listened to the sound of the blankets shifting, while he moved his head so he could see the window. Desmond shut the curtains in front of his large windows, but still, Altaїr was able to see how the sun was slowly creeping up the horizon through the small slit between the curtains. "My father." Malik then stated. "And my mother. You see, when they _discovered_ that I was gay, they forced me to marry Asha no matter that I always hated her. She was a spiteful woman and always felt like she was the victim in this situation for needing to marry a faggot. My father always told me I needed to be grateful for Allah sending me a wife that was willing to help me get back on track again. I wished it had been me killing her."

"But you killed your parents?" This question alone seemed so wrong, but Malik did not seem to think that way. Altaїr, on the other hand, tried to imagine killing his own parents or rather grandparents after he never got to know his real parents.

"I did actually. Not with my own hands, though, but I gave the order to. My mother was always distant with me and after learning about my true nature she hated me. I never thought that a mother would be able to hate their kids, but she did hate me and she told me. And for my father, well, for my father I never was enough. I never was good enough, never quite the son he wished for. After their death, I felt free for the first time and then I learned that all I did was to make it worse. Suddenly not my parents were holding my chains, but now I was holding them myself and my brother's too. There is no way of breaking free. All I can do is to try to be a better example to Tazim."

"Did you ever regret it?"

"Regret is the wrong word. I don’t regret it, but I wouldn’t do it again. Not because I would say I miss them or that I love them or forgive them, but because of the things I had to go through afterward. For all, I care they can be dead all they want, but I would much rather not have their blood on my hands." Altaїr opened his mouth to speak up again, but then he closed it and rather tried to think about it, while he was watching the sunlight creeping up all those facades and tried to imagine all those people now waking up and getting ready for the next day.

What would now become of him? What was he to do? Yes, he now did have a fortune and a house, but what should he do? He could not just live off his heritage and do nothing right? And yet, maybe, when he finally figured it out, he would be glad to not have Robert's blood on his hands. He got to punch him for what he did to his son and to him and though it was not enough, though he did not feel satisfied, he got his son back and the other one sound asleep and well in the room. And really, what more could he ask for? If punching Robert to a bloody pulp or killing him was not satisfying, having his kids by his side and being able to see them laugh again was more than enough to satisfy him.

"I think … I think I get it." Altaїr finally murmured, but there was no answer, only deep and even breathing all around him.


	26. the end of the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my unplanned extra to thank you guys for all your support, no matter if it was in the comment section or through kudos or on tumblr. Thank you for sticking with me through this ridiculous story. This chapter is a bit cheesy, but I guess it fits the story nicely.

Malik really wanted to say that the sun was shining from a clear blue sky when he got out of his black BMW, parked in front of the house in the driveway, but this was not the truth. It was snowing for hours now, the sky had been a dirty gray the whole day and the traffic had been hellish, but at least now he finally was home, right when the sun was about to set and illuminating the snow covered front yard and trees in pink. _Home_ it still felt a bit weird calling this place right here this, but he liked it. He really did.

With a small sigh, he got the bag of groceries out of his car after he parked it on the passenger's seat (something Altaїr absolutely hated him doing). A pack of _lucky charms_ stuck out of the brown paper bag and Malik could not really help but always grin a little bit seeing these. These cornflakes were the reason why he even went to the grocery store in the first place after his housekeeper forgot to buy them this morning.

Coming home with a bag of groceries like this felt so weird to him, so alien! Coming home to laughter and noise with a grocery bag felt even weirder. In a good way, though. Yes, he really liked it. When he now hurried towards the front door, glad to have left behind the hectic of the big apple and all those crowded streets, he could hardly wait to open his front door and when he did there was what he expected: noise and light and warmth.

The Christmas tree standing in the living room Altaїr forced him to buy a few days ago, he could already see from the window. Neither of them believed in the Christian religion or really any religion when it came to this, but Altaїr looked at him with puppy eyes and pleaded for him to buy a big ass fancy tree. And though Malik protested, he did do it. Altaїr never had the chance of having a Christmas tree for his kids, now he did. Though he remembered the last Christmas still very fondly and how they sat in Desmond's apartment wit eggnog, cakes and presents, while Shaun had been bragging about British traditions and how much better they were in comparison to those nasty US ones.

"Daaaaaaaaaad!" Tazim screeched as soon as Malik closed the door and it took only a second until his son flung himself at him, so that he nearly dropped the groceries, when he stumbled back a bit because of the sudden impact. "Altaїr is stupid again!"

Well, his son might only be five years old, but he was quite intelligent as one was to see right now and here. Then again, Altaїr being stupid was hardly anything new. "What did he do this time?" Though he was wondering if he really wanted to know that. For his sanity, it would be better not to.

"He almost cut off his finger!" Darim chirped when he peeked out of the living room door with a sheepish grin plastered on his face. In the background, he could hear Sef squealing and odd Christmas music blaring out of his stereo. Altaїr was a guy who liked to decorate and engulf himself in festivities - that was something Malik had time enough to discover since they moved into this very house. It was far away enough from the city so they were living a peaceful and secluded life, but near enough his brother meant an always impending and very much annoying danger. It had been the right move though for the both of them and their kids and Malik did not regret it for a second.

Malik raised one brow at Altaїr's son before his new housekeeper came from the kitchen to take the groceries from him. He did not even take off his shoes or coat before he followed the kids into the living room. Altaїr was sitting in what could only be described as utter chaos, surrounded by wrapping paper and failed trials of wrapping gifts, his left hand bandaged in a way clearly stating that he did it himself (and not so very good one might add) and with Sef by his side. Sef looked up from his squirrel plush when Malik entered the room and then tried to get to his feet. He was a bit wobbly still, but of course, he was not even yet two years old. He was a sweet child still, though often a bit cranky with his father. But, he guessed, Altaїr needed someone to be stern with him.

"Daddy hurt." The kid exclaimed when he pointed at his father, but Altaїr only grinned sheepishly like Darim used to and rose to his feet too if only to bridge the gap between them and steal a kiss from Malik's lips holding a mistletoe above their heads.

"Ewwww!" Darim and Tazim made, though the latter of the two only did so because Darim did it.

"You are ridiculous." Malik snickered grabbing the mistletoe and throwing it to the side. A part of him really wanted to grab him and kiss him more intense, but then again there were three children in the room and all of them preying like wolves - especially Sef.

"I am." Altaїr grinned and held up his hand so Malik could better pity him.

"How did you even manage that?" The older one asked when he slowly began to unwrap his hand like one of Altaїr's failed Christmas presents. His left ring finger was really a lot more bloody than it actually should be and the cut he managed to inflict on himself quite deep, though nothing that really needed medical attention.

"I wanted to craft something."

"So no crafting for you anymore?" Malik laughed and pinched his cheek though Altaїr probably hoped for a kiss. Well, he was just a big child after all, not that Malik would complain about this. But before Altaїr could answer him, Malik shoved his hand into the left pocket of his coat and pulled out a letter. "It's for you." He grinned, handing Altaїr the letter, and he was filled with mischievous joy when Altaїr's eyes darted over the sender's information and then ripped open the letter immediately with big eyes and flushed cheeks.

Altaїr did not even know that Malik decided to send one of Altaїr's old application tapes to the NYCDS together with a few short videos he took when Altaїr hadn't suspected him watching while he had been practicing in the basement. First, it had been Kadar's idea, after Malik told him they would install a room for Altair to practice in, in their new house, then he came to like the idea, but every time he asked Altaїr about this, the dancer shied away from the sole prospect of trying it again. He accomplished a lot in this past year and Malik was proud he did, but this dancing thing was still the one thing he never dared again trying.

Malik always thought progress could only be achieved when someone was to go over their own boundaries, but sometimes, he guessed, someone else needed to give it a push. Altaїr was made to achieve greatness and judging by the giant smile spreading across his face, he was just about to do so.

 


End file.
